Out with a Bang
by quizasvivamos
Summary: The 3rd part of the In Every Stitch 'verse: Kurt & Blaine receive a phone call with a proposition that could further their career. Kurt is asked to be a mentor on the new series Project Runway: Under The Gunn in LA. From opposite sides of the country, they juggle different responsibilities & find that their love and support for each other can come in the most unusual forms.
1. Chapter One: Santorini

**Author's Notes:** Hey there! I had initially planned for Kurt and Blaine's story to end after _emBarK_, but, really, their story was just beginning. Then I came up with this idea that I couldn't get out of my head, and I had to write it. So, here it is, the third and final installment of this 'verse. The two have been through a lot, so this story is a lot lighter in content and more to celebrate them and how far they have come. I suppose, in a sense, this is their happy ending. :) Reviews are greatly appreciated, motivate me, and give me a reason to keep writing and trying my best - so let me know what you think! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

Seventy-six degrees and sunny. A cool, gentle breeze rolled in off of the rise and swell of the cerulean expanse surrounding the small Greek isle. Perfect. Blaine blinked and let out a yawn, finally glancing up from his book. Squinting, he lifted his right wrist and checked his watch, his eyebrows raising when it registered. He slid the bookmark in between its pages and set the paperback novel aside, realizing that he had lost track of time while absorbed in the story.

"Hey, Kurt." Blaine reached over, grabbing his bare shoulder to gently shake him awake. "Babe, you should reapply your sunscreen before you get burnt."

A half-conscious Kurt grumbled something barely audible but then rolled over onto his back before propping himself up on his elbows and slowly pushing himself into a sitting position in his beach chair.

He lifted his sunglasses, and his eyes ran the length of his arms and stomach. "You're probably right. I can already see a light tinge." Kurt leaned over and reached for the tube that was poking out from one of their beach totes, but Blaine stopped him by grabbing it first and holding up a hand.

"Just relax. Lie back. I'll take care of it for you." Blaine grinned and cocked his head slightly to the side, pulling the tube of lotion closer to his body and out of Kurt's reach. Kurt withdrew his hand.

"If you insist, my dear." Kurt rolled his eyes, laid back down, and rolled over, acquiescing to his husband's offer and constant desire to take care of him. Blaine rose from his chair, climbed onto the adjacent chair, and was soon straddling Kurt. When the cool lotion hit Kurt's heated skin, he sighed, and Blaine laughed quietly as he began to massage it in.

"It's just not fair," Kurt said, his voice muffled by the chair beneath his face. "You sit in the sun, and you tan, but if I forget sunscreen, I become easily mistaken for someone's crustacean seafood dinner." He grimaced at the thought of being fried crispy.

Blaine laughed. "I'm the only one allowed to eat you."

"That sounds only slightly cannibalistic," Kurt said.

"Well maybe I like how you taste." Blaine leaned down and planted a kiss on Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt shivered but felt the warmth blossom beneath his skin where lips had made contact.

"And you make sure you butter me up every chance you get. Suddenly it all makes sense," Kurt teased.

The breeze kicked up again in its cycle, ruffling Kurt's hair and whipping through Blaine's curls.

They had both decided to forgo product while on their honeymoon: no one would really see them, it was freeing to not worry themselves with routine things, and they would only mess up each others' hair as soon as they weren't in a public space anyway. Hair wasn't the only routine they decided shouldn't be part of their post-wedding revels. Phones were strictly off-limits unless it was an absolute emergency, and everyone back at the boutique and the office knew the stipulations and consequences for breaking the agreement.

Without the stress of work, the week had proven to be a very eventful one indeed. It was the off-season, so not many people were around the island, and, quite often, Kurt and Blaine would get the beach to themselves. If he could see them, Dionysus, the god of wine and - _festivities _- would be proud of their shameless, often drunken shenanigans. Between the beach and the hideaway house they had rented that was tucked up in the hills, the two had never gotten off so much in such a short span of time, and they felt like giddy teenagers again, sneaking around but not really having anyone to answer to.

Kurt-married-by-thirty-Hummel was proud to be able to say that he had done it, he had tied the knot - and with over half a year to spare. The wedding had been scheduled for the week following Fashion Week so that they could get away and leave it all behind for a while. It wasn't even having the ring on his finger that was important to him, it was the man currently on top of him who had stuck by him through thick and thin already. And they always came out on top.

Kurt was so in love, he never thought that he would ever have this, a husband that was a regular prince charming and understood him in ways no one else could.

And Blaine was so in love that he couldn't keep his eyes or hands off of his husband, a man who knew him so well and was always there to keep him on track.

"Turn over," Blaine said, shifting his leg to allow mobility.

Kurt rolled over to face Blaine who then resumed straddling him. Hands with lotion were almost immediately on his stomach and sides, and Kurt, being ticklish, couldn't hold in a giggle. Then those hands made their way upward to his chest, their owner smirking knowingly.

"Oh god, Blaine, that isn't fair," Kurt moaned, biting down on and sucking in his bottom lip. Kurt's shorts began to tighten as Blaine ran a thumb over his nipple, and he knew Blaine was proud of himself with that stupid grin plastered on his face.

"We could go back to the house," Blaine said, a glimmer in his eyes.

"You give me no choice. Otherwise, this could get very embarrassing, and I can't be held liable for what I might do to you," Kurt said.

"Getting caught is half the fun. There's no one around, but there _are_ more opportunities to _entertain_ ourselves in an actual bedroom," Blaine said.

"Fuck, Blaine." Kurt placed his palms flat on Blaine's chest and pushed him up so he could sit up in the chair. He threw his arms around the back of Blaine's neck and drew him in for a surprisingly chaste kiss. "Come on. Before this starts to become uncomfortable."

Needing no other prompting, Blaine scrambled out of Kurt's lap, and they quickly gathered up their things, tossing them haphazardly into their beach bags. They folded up their chairs with ease that only came with practice of quick and urgent getaways, and hurried off, laughing as they went, away from the beach, up the hill, and back to the secluded house.

It was like something out of a movie, the aged, white stone building on the hill that overlooked the sparkling blue Aegean Sea. They had all the wine they could drink and a private balcony they spent the evenings on wrapped up in each other after calm days of nothing and long, languid rounds of sex.

"It's like Mamma Mia," Kurt had said when they first arrived after dropping his suitcases to the floor by the bed. "It's gorgeous here." He threw his hands up in the air and twirled around the room. Blaine watched on with a fondness that was only growing with each passing day.

"How can I resist you?" Blaine half-sang before pouncing on Kurt, knocking him into the soft mattress, officially beginning their much deserved week of merry-making.

And now they were back in the room, both already half-hard, eager hands tugging at drawstrings and pulling down on swimsuit waistbands. Blaine dropped to his knees, and Kurt sucked in a sharp breath as Blaine slid his shorts down, allowing Kurt to step out of them.

Then with firm hands, Blaine grabbed Kurt's hips and eased him back onto the edge of the bed. He licked his lips and looked up with wide, hungry eyes, meeting Kurt's. Kurt's cheeks were flushed, his breath was coming out in rapid puffs, and his pupils were blown wide as he gazed down at Blaine between his knees.

"I told you," Blaine said. "I love how you taste." He wrapped his lips around the tip of Kurt's cock and slowly slid his tongue out to tease at the sensitive underside. Kurt let out a low, guttural moan, and Blaine took Kurt all the way into his mouth. Kurt's fingers tangled in Blaine's hair as Blaine ran his hands up and down Kurt's thighs, his thumbs grazing his balls.

He pulled off, and Kurt looked down.

"Why did you - ? Oh." Kurt bit back a moan as Blaine's mouth sank down on him again. Blaine brought a hand up to stroke his length as he continued to suck Kurt off.

"Mm, Blaine. I'm about to -"

Kurt's ringtone went off, filling up the small room with the musical styling of Madge.

"Ah, what the hell?" Blaine said, pulling off again.

It continued to ring.

"_Get into the groove, boy, you've got to prove your love to me..."_

Kurt groaned.

"Are you going to answer it?"

"I don't wanna," Kurt whined. "Can't we just -?"

"But what if it's an emergency?"

"Blaine," Kurt groaned again. The phone continued to go off, and if Kurt didn't answer it soon, he'd miss it. "Fine. I got it." He fell backward and rolled over the bed to snatch his phone off the nightstand. When he glanced at the lit-up screen, he didn't recognize the number, but he quickly hit the green bar and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" Kurt said, frustration only slightly evident in his voice. Blaine rose from the floor and sat down on the bed beside him.

Blaine watched as Kurt's eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. His heart began to race, and he was worried and anxious while waiting for Kurt to tell him what was going on. Scenarios of all sorts were now whirling around in his head, none of them good. Then a grin spread across Kurt's face that put Blaine at ease but left him all the more intrigued and impatient to find out why.

"Oh, um, wow. Yes, that sounds like a fabulous opportunity. I mean, I'd have to be an idiot to turn it down," Kurt said to the mystery person on the other end. He laughed, probably along with said person.

Blaine scooted in closer to see if he could catch even a snippet of the caller's voice. It was male, that much he could make out.

"When?" Kurt asked. "Okay, I - uh - I think I can make that happen - or, should I say, make it work," Kurt joked.

Blaine narrowed his eyes and then quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes. Thank you, thank you! It was really a pleasure to hear from you, Tim."

Blaine cocked his head to the side, and the corner of his mouth curled upward.

"I hope you have an excellent day! Good bye!" Kurt hung up the phone. His eyes were distant for a moment as he held the phone between both hands and took a deep breath before turning toward Blaine.

"Well? Was that really -?"

"Tim Gunn! Yes!" Kurt nodded vigorously.

"Oh my god - what did he want? What did you just agree to?" Blaine sputtered, completely baffled. He couldn't believe that of all the people in the world they just got cock blocked by Tim Gunn.

"They want me to be a mentor on Under The Gunn," Kurt said, barely able to contain himself.

"That's great!" Blaine threw his arms around Kurt and kissed him briefly.

"I know!" Kurt paused. "There's only one thing..." Kurt said hesitantly.

"What?" Blaine asked, his face falling at the comment and the shift in tone of Kurt's voice.

"It's not in New York. They're filming at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in LA," Kurt said.

"Oh." Blaine was quiet for a moment as he made some quick calculations. "But you have to go - you have to do it."

"I really, really want to," Kurt said, his eyes lighting up again. "They start production the beginning of November, but they want me there the last two weeks of October," he explained.

"That's really soon."

"I know." Kurt set the phone down on the nightstand again.

"Well, I guess we have a bit of planning to do - for your trip and for how I'm going to handle the business while you're away," Blaine said.

"But - you're not coming with me?"

"I can't, Kurt. You know that. There's too much to do, and we don't exactly have anyone who we can trust enough to take over for an extended period of time. No, as much as I want to go with you, I'll have to stay in New York."

Kurt shifted on the bed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It'll only be for two months. Then I'll be home, and I'll be all yours again," he said, pressing his index finger against Blaine's chest before letting his hand fall to the mattress.

Blaine leaned over and kissed Kurt on the nose.

"I know. I'm not worried at all. I am, however, a little jealous. I've never been to California before or the West coast for that matter," Blaine said.

"Well, if this works out, we could be going back there together in the very near future," Kurt said. With that, he grabbed Blaine's hand and entwined their fingers.

Blaine looked down at their hands, but his eyes roamed toward Kurt who he couldn't help but notice had gone completely soft. Blaine cleared his throat.

"So," Blaine began. "Where were we?"

"Oh, jeez." Kurt covered his face with his hands. "I know this is going to sound bad, but I'm so worked up now - could we maybe just lay down and cuddle for a little bit instead?"

Blaine pouted. "Alright." Then he laid back, pulling Kurt down with him. They scooted in close to each other, and Blaine pulled Kurt toward him until his back was resting up against Blaine's chest. Kurt breathed steadily and closed his eyes as he took in Blaine's warmth. He ran his fingers softly over the knuckles of the hand pressed against his abdomen. Then Kurt's fingers found Blaine's wedding band, and he touched it and smiled.

"I'm going back, Blaine. This is crazy," Kurt said quietly. "Back again to where we met - where everything began, really."

"It is crazy. You deserve it though, Kurt. You've worked harder than anyone I know, and it's definitely time for you to get some recognition."

"You act as if we aren't moderately famous already," Kurt said. "But, yeah. It'll be nice to have another go at a win. Third time's a charm, right?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you've already won. I really don't want you to get stressed out over this new competition, but I know you'll be fine," Blaine said.

Kurt rolled over to face Blaine.

"No stress. I promise." He brought his mouth to Blaine's and kissed him slowly. When they disconnected, Blaine looked at Kurt through thick eyelashes, and Kurt couldn't resist kissing him again, and again, and again until he was on top of Blaine, deepening the kiss and gradually growing hard again against him.

"Not quite where we were, but this is good too," Blaine said gruffly. He grabbed Kurt's ass and pulled him down, needing the friction, their erections grinding against each other. Kurt whimpered, and Blaine pushed his tongue inside his mouth before pulling away again.

"Can I -?" Kurt asked as he traced a finger down around Blaine's ass.

"Yeah," Blaine said, breathless.

Kurt slid his hand behind Blaine's head and under the pillow and pulled out the bottle of lube from its convenient spot beneath it. Practicality was one of Kurt's many strong suits. He rolled his hips down against Blaine, his cock twitching at the noises that escaped him, before moving down the bed and positioning himself between his legs.

Grabbing one of the pillows, Kurt slid it carefully beneath Blaine to prop him up. He poured some lube on his fingers and ran a warm, slick digit over Blaine's hole before gently pushing it inside. Blaine gasped at the pressure and wriggled beneath him, his breath hitching as Kurt slowly slid it back out and in again. Then Kurt lowered his head and took Blaine into his mouth. Blaine clenched up around him from the unexpected additional contact. But as Kurt slowly sucked and licked Blaine's cock, he pushed his finger in deeper and worked Blaine open. Blaine began to relax and let out soft moans with each thrust and bob of the head.

"K-Kurt, it's almost - too m-much," Blaine managed, and his hips jerked up with another thrust of Kurt's finger, now sliding in and out with ease.

Kurt pulled off. "You want me to stop?"

"No, no, no," Blaine said. "It just feels really good - too good. I won't last long if you keep it up -"

"Alright," Kurt said. He wrapped his free hand around Blaine's cock and stroked slowly, twisting his fist as he pushed a second finger inside Blaine and continued to thrust. Blaine opened up around him so easily that Kurt, now craving release from watching all of Blaine's reactions and hearing all his noises of pleasure, let go of Blaine and began to stroke himself. A third finger, and Blaine was practically begging Kurt to fuck him.

"Please," Blaine said, his voice drawn out and desperate. He grabbed the lube, squeezed some out into his hand, and nearly sat up and reached down to grab Kurt's cock.

"Mm - okay, okay, I can take a hint," Kurt said, pulling his fingers out. Relieved and expectant, Blaine laid back again, and, after squeezing some more lube into his hand and stroking himself a few times, Kurt lined himself up with Blaine's entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside and felt Blaine relax around him. He thrust in deeper, pulling almost all the way out, then pushing back in before building up a steady rhythm. He gripped Blaine's thighs as he continued to thrust, each one met with a grunt or a moan that only motivated him to go faster.

"You don't have to hold it in, baby," Kurt said. "No one can hear us up here."

"I - know," Blaine said. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking himself off while Kurt fucked into him, and he cried out as he came. It streaked his stomach and across his chest, and seeing Blaine wrecked was enough to push Kurt over the edge.

"Y-yeah," Kurt groaned as he thrust deeply, one, two, three more times, his body shuddering as he came inside Blaine.

Breathing heavily, Kurt slid out of Blaine and then collapsed onto the bed next to him. Blaine reached over, pulled some tissues from the bedside reserve that was dwindling and soon to be depleted, and cleaned himself up before rolling over with some difficulty to face Kurt.

There was a wordless exchange between them as Blaine's eyes scanned Kurt's, dropped down to his swollen lips, and then found their way back to his husband's eyes which now appeared a greenish gray in the gradual fading of the last daylight hours.

"I'm gonna miss you," Blaine said. "And this."

Kurt scrunched up his face and chuckled softly.

"I'm not gone yet, Blaine. Jeez. We still have another day in Greece before we head home and then another month in New York before I take off."

"I know, I know. It's just that - I'm selfish and want you here with me always."

"I think we've spoiled ourselves with this vacation," Kurt said.

"I think you're right. What if we just stayed here forever?" Blaine said.

Kurt laughed.

"We'd go broke."

"Good point."

"Trust me, I'd stay here if we could, or at least keep traveling without having to worry about work and responsibilities," Kurt said. "But I also know I couldn't possibly stay away from designing and would want to go home eventually anyway."

"Me too," Blaine admitted. "It's like it runs in our veins now, and I honestly couldn't imagine doing anything else with anyone else."

Kurt let out a lengthy sigh and was quiet for a moment.

"New York draws me back like a magnet no matter what I do. But I think that it's mostly because you're there, and we've built this life together. I mean, we could make clothes anywhere, really, but it's home."

"Let's enjoy the last days of our vacation, and we'll be back in the city in no time," Blaine said.

"Oh, no, no.. I don't want to rush back by any means. I mean, how many more times will I get to see your lovely curls freed of gel for such an extended period of time?" Kurt combed his fingers through Blaine's hair and twirled a curl around his index finger.

"Probably never," Blaine laughed. "And I know I'm going to miss you being naked almost all day and freed of all your pesky layers." Blaine reached over and playfully grabbed Kurt's ass. Kurt swatted his hand away and giggled.

"You know that's never going to change."

"I do. And I love it, no matter how difficult it makes it to tear all your clothes off when all I want is your body against mine."

"I make you work for it," Kurt said. "And you have excellent work ethic."

"And it's that much more satisfying when I succeed," Blaine said.

"Oh," Kurt said, looking down at Blaine whose cock was growing hard. "Again?"

"It can't be helped. You're gorgeous, you know. It's unfair."

Kurt chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Come here." He grabbed Blaine by his slim waist and pulled him flush against him. "Let's make the best of our last two days. No clothing, no product, no phones...just us." They closed the gap between them, and Blaine hummed contentedly against Kurt's mouth as they slid their lips together.


	2. Chapter Two: Empire State

The apartment was exactly how they had left it: sketchbooks piled on the coffee table, Kurt's tablet on the counter, Blaine's laptop on the bed, magazines all throughout the apartment on any available surface, and nothing but a few condiments, a couple cans of diet soda and a lone beer in the fridge.

What wasn't the same was the alarming number of emails in both Kurt and Blaine's inboxes ranging from Twitter and Facebook notifications to a few 'how are you's from Rachel and Finn or Burt and Carole.

"We gained nearly two-thousand followers since the wedding," Kurt said as he scrolled through the emails.

"That's crazy." Blaine came up behind him to look over his shoulder at the screen. "I bet they're worried because we haven't posted anything in over a week."

"Nah. Besides the spam, it looks like most of the messages are congratulations."

"That's really sweet," Blaine said. He placed his hands on Kurt's shoulders and massaged them gently.

"Yeah. Thousands of complete strangers care about us and every little thing we do. It's sweet, but it's also something else," Kurt laughed.

"It comes with the territory, you know that."

"Oh, yeah, and I was prepared. I just can't wait to see the internet explode when I make the announcement about the new show," Kurt said. He swiped his finger over the screen again to bring up a new window.

"I would stay off the computer for at least a week after," Blaine joked. "Give them some time to calm down."

"I should probably check in with Tyler and get up to speed. I know we weren't gone that long, but you know how I get - I need to be on top of everything," Kurt said.

"And that's why I keep you around." Blaine kissed Kurt on the cheek. "So, what were you thinking about for dinner? There's nothing in the fridge, so we'll need to either order in or go out."

"Hm, I'm kinda craving pizza," Kurt said. "But, I want to stretch my legs and get back out into the city."

"A night out it is, then."

After a relaxing meal of classic New York cuisine, a half-hour subway ride, and their stroll around the city, Blaine was not surprised that their night out ended at the boutique. Kurt really couldn't stay away, and there was a lot of gossip that he had apparently missed and immediately began to catch up on upon entering. They checked in with Tyler who had only a few minor things to report on, but Andrea, one of the designers they had brought onto their team, seemed to be bursting with information.

"You know those guys from England? They're like the new Beatles or something, only there's five of them," Andrea said.

"One Direction?" Kurt said.

"Yeah, that's who I meant. Well, anyway, they're in New York right now, and everyone's after the tall, curly-haired one for magazine shoots and modeling gigs," she went on.

"Were you trying to stalk them or something?" Kurt asked.

"Of course I was. Who wouldn't be?"

"Well, then, did you? Did you find Harry Styles in the city? Please tell me you found Harry Styles," Kurt said, his eyes lighting up.

Andrea tightened her lips, her eyes full of mischief, looked to the side, and then pulled out her phone. Kurt bounced on the balls of his feet, clapping as she opened her photos.

Kurt gasped. "Oh my god. That's not just Harry, that's...Larry." He covered his mouth and continued to look on at the picture in awe.

"Who? One of them is named Larry? I thought that was Louis. I'm so confused," Andrea said.

"Oh, no, no, no," Kurt laughed. "That is Louis - Louis and Harry. Larry."

Andrea's eyes grew wide. "Ooh...I get it."

"You can't post that online," Kurt said, suddenly growing serious. "Just - don't."

"Why not? I wasn't going to, but why?"

"You would open a can of worms and start a riot, and no one wants to deal with all of that," Kurt explained. "Besides - " He snatched the phone from her hands and sent the photo to himself. "I want to keep this one for myself."

"I didn't realize it was such a big deal," she said, now laughing at Kurt's excitement as he handed her phone back.

His phone vibrated in his pocket to signal the reception of the text. "It is -"

"Oh it definitely is," Blaine cut in. "Kurt takes his boy bands seriously, especially when it comes to One Direction."

"Larry, my dear," Kurt said, glancing sideways at him.

"Oh yes. How could I be so clueless?" Blaine jested.

"Anyway," Kurt said, directing his attention back to Andrea. "It's a shame we don't have a menswear line, isn't it. I would love to dress him up." He sighed.

"Wouldn't we all," she said. "Speaking of dressing up, a few more commissions came in, and we're pretty much booked for the awards season."

"That's fantastic!" Blaine said. "We'll have to go through them tomorrow and begin planning and sketching."

"Oh, yeah. Andrea, Blaine is going to be the only one running things around here for a little while," Kurt said.

"Really? Why?"

"I'm going to be in LA for about two months working on a project," Kurt said.

"Is it top secret or something?"

"For now, yes. I'm not allowed to say anything quite yet. But when I can, you'll know. Don't worry, it's exciting and a good thing for all of us," he said.

"Now you've got me curious, and you know how impatient I am. C'mon," she whined.

"Trust me. It'll be worth the wait," Kurt said, beaming.

-s-

The next few weeks flew by too quickly for Blaine's liking, and before they knew it, it was time to send Kurt off. Blaine reached into the drawer and pulled out a few of Kurt's undershirts. He turned toward the bed where Kurt was carefully packing shoes into one of his three suitcases. Blaine let out a heavy sigh and stepped over to set them on the bed. When he turned his head again, he saw the open drawer now empty, and he felt a pang in his stomach.

"We've come a long way, haven't we," Blaine said.

"What? What prompted that thought?"

"I just - I remember the last time your drawer was empty, but this time it's sort of - joyful."

Kurt froze for a moment, his eyes growing sad for a split second before becoming bright again. "Yeah. It's definitely on different terms," Kurt agreed.

Blaine breathed in deeply, and then turned to meet Kurt's eyes. He smiled, and Kurt's lips curled up in response.

"I want you to take tons of pictures and send them to me. I can pretend I'm there with you," Blaine said, still grinning.

"Don't worry. Every off moment I get, I won't be able to help myself. You can expect texts, calls, and late-night Skype sessions," Kurt said. "Because I'll miss your face."

"Mm," Blaine hummed. "That all sounds perfect to me."

"So, what outfits should I pack? If I'm not mistaken, LA winters are mild," Kurt said.

"Let me see..." Blaine walked over to the closet and searched through Kurt's clothing. He slid a few shirts out of the way before pulling a few hangers out. "These will be perfect." He laid them on the bed, and Kurt examined his picks.

"Yep. Perfect." And he began to fold them and pack them neatly in the designated case.

Blaine went through Kurt's accessories, choosing some of his favorite scarves and brooches, and Kurt chose some shorts and light pairs of pants. Soon, they had completely filled all three suitcases, and zipped them up with a sort of content finality. Kurt was leaving in the morning.

-s-

The cab pulled up to JFK Airport, and Blaine paid the fare as Kurt got out to retrieve his luggage from the trunk.

"You've got everything?" Blaine asked, Kurt's carry on in hand and messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

"Yep." Kurt pulled the handle out on his one suitcase and shut the trunk.

They made their way into the airport and over to baggage check, dropping off two of the cases. Then Blaine turned toward Kurt and sighed.

"I guess this is it. I can't go any further with you without a ticket of my own."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm. "I'm a big boy, Blaine. No need to hold my hand." He grinned. Blaine looked down at the ground and let out a low laugh.

"I know. But that doesn't mean I don't want to. I know how big this is for both of us, but it's hard to let go." He paused. "Call me or text me as soon as you get there?" Blaine said, looking back up into Kurt's eyes.

"I promise." Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine's lips, a short kiss, but filled with the promise, and it eased all the tension in Blaine's body and calmed his mind. "I better go now. The flight leaves at 9 and it's -" Kurt checked his phone - "8:26. Shit."

"I love you," Blaine said as Kurt turned and began to walk away.

He spun back around, his eyes wide. "I love you too," Kurt said, stepping forward to give Blaine one last hug before turning around and heading toward the queue, his ticket and ID at the ready.

Blaine watched from beyond the barriers as the line moved along, taking Kurt farther and farther away from him. And then Kurt waved before going through security and disappearing on the other side.

-s-

Kurt dozed off for a bit during the five-and-a-half-hour flight. When the plane touched down and he wearily made his way into the crowded airport, he finally turned his phone back on only to see that the time had adjusted itself and that he had one text message:

**Blaine**

9:14 AM

_I love you. I miss you already._

He swiftly typed a response:

_I'm here safely. I love you more._

He looked at the time: 12:32. It was going to be a long day. And he was already exhausted from the flight. Baggage claim took less time than expected, and Kurt hummed as he rolled his suitcases toward the door.

The sun was exceptionally bright when he exited LAX, and, squinting, Kurt took his sunglasses out of his messenger bag and slid them on. He loosened the scarf around his neck, already tempted to take it off along with the light jacket that had been appropriate in New York and on the chilly flight but was now threatening to cause him to suffer heat exhaustion.

The shuttle took him across town to his hotel, and during the ride he watched Los Angeles roll by out the window as he was carried along toward Downtown. His stomach fluttered, and he squirmed in his seat as excitement bubbled up inside of him. He had seen LA in movies and on television, but actually being here was different. And there were palm trees! There were really palm trees along almost every street. It seemed such a silly thing to get excited over at his age, but Kurt didn't care.

Once at the hotel, he didn't take time to unpack having decided to leave it for later. He was anxious to get a bit of sightseeing in before he settled in for the evening and passed out.

Kurt grabbed lunch and then wandered around. He hopped a bus that took him toward the Paramount Pictures studios, and it suddenly occurred to him that he was in Hollywood. Some of the biggest celebrities were possibly only feet away from him, and he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he ran into anyone.

When he got off the bus, he pivoted around, breathing in deeply. Then his eyes locked on something all-too-familiar but so surreal to see in real life.

Kurt lifted his phone up and took a few snapshots of the hill in the distance. He opened up a text message to Blaine, attached a photo, typed out a short caption, and hit send.

-s-

Blaine felt his phone buzz against his leg and jumped. He set down his routine midday coffee and pulled it out of his pocket. When he opened the message from Kurt, a picture of the Hollywood sign popped up on the screen, and Blaine read the short caption:

_Wish you were here._

He quickly responded.

_Me too_

But now it's your time to shine, Blaine thought. And he smiled as he looked at the picture for a moment more.

-s-

The next day, when Blaine opened his laptop, he saw the same picture pop up on his Twitter feed.

* * *

**Kurt Hummel** (a)emBarKurt

Exciting news for you guys! I can officially announce that I will be a mentor on Under The Gunn! #UnderTheGunn #ProjectRunway #hereigoagain

[link to pic]

* * *

**Notifications:**

_Blaine favorited your tweet_

_Blaine retweeted your tweet_

**529 retweets 280 favorites**

* * *

**Blaine Anderson** (a)emBarKBlaine

"And I can't believe that I'm your man,

And I get to kiss you baby just because I can

Whatever comes our way, we'll see it through,

And you know that's what our love can do"

* * *

**Notifications:**

_Kurt favorited your tweet_


	3. Chapter Three: In the City of Angels

His body clock was all out of whack the first few days he was in California, so Kurt was glad that production didn't begin until that Monday. Kurt found himself sleeping in longer than planned and waking up in a warm state of bliss from the sun streaming through the window. He had awoken from a dream in which he was baking cookies, pies, and other pastries; everything was warm and bright - there was Blaine's smile...and he was very disappointed when he rolled over, opened his eyes, and only saw an empty pillow which was not very good for cuddling or eating, that was for sure.

The hotel in which Kurt was staying was conveniently located only minutes from the Fashion District, and he couldn't pass up the opportunity for a day trip. Kurt realized that covering all one hundred blocks of the LA Fashion District would be an impossible feat, but he was more than content to spend the day in and out of as many shops as possible.

After wandering around the textiles section, he traveled a few blocks over to the accessories stores where he was unable to help himself from splurging a little. Okay, maybe a lot. He probably would have bankrupted himself had the store clerk not guided him toward the checkout, jingling the store keys in his hand as a polite reminder that closing time was fast approaching.

And so his day of shopping in the heart of Los Angeles was over. He felt like Julia Roberts, except he had no sexy man waiting for him back in his hotel room. Upon exiting the store, Kurt pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of his new purchases, and sent it off to Blaine with the heart eyes emoji. Then, with a contented sigh, he readjusted his bags and began the trek back to his hotel.

On his way back, bags swinging at his sides, he passed a few flower shops. A colorful display in the window triggered a memory, and Kurt thought back fondly to that unconventional floral challenge, the one that had changed everything between him and Blaine. If Blaine had been there with him, he would have stopped to buy a bouquet or even a single rose - to celebrate them.

Running low on fuel and feeling hunger gnawing at his stomach, Kurt stopped at Avocado to pick up dinner. He felt a little foolish as he sat shirtless in bed eating takeout, but he was pooped from the day, and it wasn't like anyone was around to judge him. Besides, he had never had Colombian cuisine before, and it was fantastic. He ate until he was practically bursting.

After tossing the empty container in the wastebasket, Kurt laid back in the bed with his tablet. Rather than going on social media, he pulled out his stylus, opened up a sketchbook app, and began to sketch. He didn't have any particular reason for it, and it wasn't like he would need to design while he was mentoring, but he felt inspired by his mini adventure, and it made him feel more at home and in his element when he was so far from it.

-s-

The sun had just begun to peek over the Hollywood Hills when Kurt's eyes fluttered open. He stretched his arms up above his head and let out a lengthy yawn before rolling over to check the stomach grumbled, and his first thought was to lift up the phone to order room service. But, as he leaned over to reach for the phone, it hit him that it was the first day of production, and excitement pulsed through him like an electric current that jump-started him awake. Suddenly, all he could think about was putting the perfect outfit together, grabbing a coffee, and rushing out the door and over to FIDM.

Today was the day Kurt would meet all the designers and choose his mentees. He was especially anxious to meet his own competition, the other two mentors, and it honestly hadn't crossed his mind who they could be. That particular information was withheld from him.

He spritzed the last bit of hairspray toward his perfectly styled pompadour and replaced the cap. After one last once over, feeling like a kid off to his first day of school, Kurt took a selfie in the mirror and messed around on his phone for a minute before sending it to Blaine.

The hotel was practically across the street from FIDM, and Kurt was there in no time at all. When he stepped into the main room, he saw the production crew bustling about, and then he spotted Tim Gunn already in a conversation with two other people. When Kurt approached them, they turned, and it took everything within him to maintain his composure.

"Welcome, Kurt!" Tim Gunn said. "It's so great to see you again! It's great to see all of you," he added, turning to the others. "I'm fairly certain you've all met before...?"

"Hello, Kurt," Isaac said, giving him a less than subtle once over. "The years have been very kind to you, I see."

"Yes, they have. Thank you," Kurt said with a forced smile. Of course one of his competitors would be the man who all but stole his chance at the title back in his original season. "It's great to see you again, Isaac."

"Hummel," the woman said. Kurt flicked his eyes over toward her.

"Amanda," Kurt answered. He tried to conceal a sigh. "This is fantastic," he said, but his eyes said otherwise.

"Oh, how I missed your winning attitude. Speaking of winning, it's too bad Blaine wasn't asked to return," she said. "How is he doing, anyway?"

"He's great - we're great," Kurt said. He absentmindedly touched his left ring finger and began to twist his wedding band around it. "Blaine is taking care of our boutique and office while I'm here."

"Well, guys, it's time to get down to business," Tim cut in. "We're shooting the introductions on the front lawn in about forty-five minutes."

After escorting Kurt and the others to hair and makeup for a quick pit stop, where body mics were strapped to each of them, Tim showed them where the lounge and refreshments were and then shooed the designers out the main entrance and into the LA sun.

The production crew finished getting into position, and Kurt stood for a few moments, watching as they made sure to hold the boom mics just out of the cameras' peripheral. They sent a few hand signals to each other, Kurt and the others were given their cues, and then the cameras began to roll.

Kurt, Isaac, and Amanda looked on while fifteen designers marched up the lawn toward where they stood on the steps.

Tim Gunn introduced each designer, announced the big prize, and then explained the first challenge. There were large buckets spaced out on the lawn that were filled with bolts of fabric, and the designers were to choose wisely within the time limit and make something that best represented their individual aesthetic.

As the designers raced about, grabbing fabric and trying not to knock into each other, Kurt was trying to gauge the taste level of the designers, but all he could go off of was what they were currently wearing and the materials they were choosing. Only two people caught his eye, but he knew that it wasn't a proper indication of their abilities as designers. When time was up, the designers were sent to the workroom, and Kurt was relieved to know that the mentors would be flipping through portfolios in the lounge as they worked.

He situated himself on the one couch next to Isaac, and Amanda soon joined them on his other side. They paged through the portfolios together, commenting on certain things and getting the gist of each designer's ability and style. It didn't take long for Kurt to choose who he thought had the most potential and with whom he'd work best.

Then it was the mentor's time to finally enter the workroom and talk to the designers. As they approached the first of the group, Kurt took a deep breath. The rest of the afternoon was a blur of chiffon and cotton blends, but he kept in mind which portfolios he had liked and made mental notes of what they were currently creating for the challenge. If everything went as planned, he was confident that he already had his winning team picked out.

When it came to the runway, however, he began to wonder if he had jumped the gun on some of his choices. As the looks came down, Kurt was impressed by some and underwhelmed by others, but he stuck to his original picks. The designers stood before them, and it soon became apparent that it might not be as simple as he initially thought.

"If more than one of the mentors choose you," Tim explained to the designers, "then you have the final choice for whose team you wish to join."

Amanda had first pick.

"Ruby," she said. "I would like to work with you, and I want you on my team."

Oh, hell no, Kurt thought. Ruby was his first choice, but he wasn't surprised that this might turn into a battle for the cream of the crop, those few designers who stood out above the rest.

"I would also love to work with you," Kurt announced. "I really like your aesthetic, and you have a lot of potential to improve."

"Isaac?" Tim Gunn said.

"I love what you do, Ruby, but I don't think you're the best match for me," he said. And Kurt felt a little lighter, knowing that he now had the upper hand.

"So it's up to you, Ruby," Tim said.

"Oh, god. Um, this is tough."

"I won't lie to you, this is going to be a lot of work, but I think that we can both learn a lot from each other," Kurt said. "And, together, we could win this thing."

"I believe in your abilities," Amanda said.

Kurt didn't feel threatened by Amanda at all. He knew that he was not only the better designer, but she was anything but smooth.

"Well I am a huge fan of Kurt's work, and he's amazing," she began. "So, thank you, Amanda, but I'm going to have to go with Kurt!"

Kurt thanked her with a quick hug, and when she left the runway, he smiled politely but was fist pumping internally at his good fortune.

And the process went on: he battled it out and lost one of his favorites to Isaac, nearly lost one to Amanda but was victorious, and then finally had his entire team composed, most of whom he felt confident about. It seemed that his age was one of the factors that made working with him so appealing, so he used that, along with his wit, to his advantage to win over his mentees. Three of the designers were sent home, and the remaining twelve were evenly distributed among the mentors.

When all was said and done, Kurt walked away with three of his four top picks and one designer who he believed could either be the dark horse of the bunch or simply a black sheep.

"Now that you all have your mentees, there are a few things I'd like to go over with you," Tim said once they were back in the lounge. "First, I want to thank you all for hanging in there today. The next challenge is tomorrow, so I want you all to keep in mind that you are here to guide the designers, not to design for them. It might get a bit frustrating at times, but that's going to be your challenge: seeing what it's like to be in my position and learning how to be a support system for your mentees in order to bring out their best and reach their highest potential."

"So if I see something that is absolutely ratchet, I can tell my designer to get rid of it?" Amanda asked.

"More or less," Tim answered.

"I'm sure the designers would benefit more from a bit of constructive criticism," Kurt said pointedly, directing it toward Amanda. "Remember, we have been in their shoes before."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I mean, not everyone is a sad little puppy like Blaine who you can just snap at and he'll still come back, tail wagging, and jump in your bed at night," Amanda sneered.

"Whoa," Isaac said. "I can't say I completely get the reference, but I want nothing to do with your drama."

"It would be best to maintain an air of professionalism," Tim Gunn said. "Lest you lose your credibility with your designers. I understand this is still a competition, but it's best we leave old feuds in the past." He raised his eyebrows at Amanda and Kurt.

"I'm over it," Kurt said. "No hard feelings here, but I'd ask that you not talk about my husband like that again." He smirked, feeling his old, snarky competitive attitude resurfacing. Amanda rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Anyway," Isaac cut in. "Do we get a heads up on the challenge?"

"That's an excellent question. I can only tell you that you'll want to dress comfortably for the beach, and we'll be going to Mood for fabrics. The rest should be just as much of a surprise to you as it is for your mentees," Tim said. "Make sure you all get some sleep and are well-rested for tomorrow."

When they were finally dismissed, Isaac pulled a confused Kurt to the side, leaving Amanda to walk on alone as she left the premises.

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you that, despite everything that happened in the past, I've always respected you and have been a fan of your designs," he said. "Amanda is a bit rude, no?"

"Um, thank you. I'm not concerned about her, really. She's more of a nuisance than anything, and nothing to get too worried about," Kurt said. "She's just sore that I took her 'friend'," Kurt made air quotes and rolled his eyes, "away from her."

"I just don't want there to be any weirdness between us," Isaac said.

Isaac's choice of the word 'weirdness' struck Kurt funny for some reason. "There isn't, last time I checked," Kurt responded. But he was still bitter, try as he might to let what happened in the past go. He knew that his anger should be more directed toward the clearly blind judges who handed him second place. Still, he couldn't help but resent Isaac, even after all these years. So he took a breath and reminded himself that, even though he hadn't won, he was anything but unsuccessful. Kurt Hummel was a well-known name in New York now, and he tried to hold on to that knowledge to boost himself up when he felt low in Isaac's presence.

"Good. Well, see you tomorrow, Kurt. This competition should be a trip," Isaac said, and Kurt missed the hopeful look that crept onto his face.

"Yeah, it'll be something alright. See ya." And Kurt waved goodbye before making his way back to his hotel.

-s-

Once he was back in the hotel room, there was only one thing on Kurt's mind. He grabbed his tablet off the desk and plopped down into the bed. With all-too-eager fingers, Kurt opened Skype and tapped the call button on the first name on the list.

"Hey." Blaine's face popped up on Kurt's screen. His voice was gruff, and, with a quick glance at the clock, Kurt was sure he had woken him.

"I'm sorry for Skyping so late. Today was a little longer than I expected. What time is it there -?"

Blaine's eyes flicked down to the corner of his screen. "1:43 AM."

"I'm so sorry -"

"No, don't be, Kurt. I'm glad I get to see your face and hear your voice before I go to sleep."

"But you were already asleep."

"And now I'm awake and talking to my beautiful husband. So - how was the first day of filming?"

"I didn't realize they were going to shoot two challenges in one day. It was incredibly exhausting. They already eliminated three people, and I officially have my four mentees," Kurt said.

"Well, that's good. Did you get who you wanted?"

"Mostly. You'll never guess who the other mentors are, Blaine."

"Who?"

"Isaac...and Amanda."

"No -"

"Yep."

"How weird is that?"

"Very. But the way I see it is that I'm getting a second chance. And this time, I'm going to win. Just like I should have the first time around," Kurt said. "Beating Amanda again isn't really a concern."

"You will. You'll win."

"The competition isn't riding on my designs though."

"I know, but you're a great mentor. You've already proven that with how you are with Andrea and the others on our team. And I've also learned a lot from working with you, believe it or not. You have a lot of techniques and natural talent up your sleeve, Kurt."

"Maybe." Kurt sighed. Blaine seemed to yawn in response, and Kurt laughed. "I should let you get back to sleep now."

"But - now I won't be able to. At least, not that easily. I'll be thinking about you too much," Blaine said, grinning impishly.

"Oh yeah? Is there something I can do to help you sleep?" Kurt raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Blaine emitted a soft moan, closing his eyes for a brief moment. It was then that Kurt realized he could only see Blaine's one hand, and he sat up in the bed, slightly amused that Blaine had apparently gotten a head start.

"Well..." Blaine began. He shifted in the bed and looked guiltily at Kurt.

"Are you touching yourself, Blaine?" Kurt asked, feeling a flush rising to his face.

"I might be. God, Kurt. I know it's only been a few days, but it's been really hard. I didn't want to tell you, but I haven't been able to sleep right without you next to me," Blaine admitted. He looked down at the keyboard and away from Kurt.

Kurt shifted on the bed. "It's been three years, and you can still make me blush, Blaine Anderson."

"I want to pretend you're here with me." Blaine closed his eyes.

"I am - I'm there with you," Kurt said softly. Blaine laid back on the bed and turned on his side so he was still facing the screen. Kurt played along, but he was too physically exhausted to indulge.

"Yeah..."

"Relax, Blaine. I'm behind you, pressed up against your back...my hand is wrapped around your cock, and...I'm kissing your neck," Kurt said just above a whisper.

"Oh," Blaine moaned.

"Now I'm running my fingers across your chest, over your nipples..." Kurt continued. "You're so hard for me, Blaine."

"F-fuck."

"God, I love when I have you like this," Kurt said.

"Faster, Kurt," Blaine breathed.

Kurt watched Blaine for a few more moments as he stroked himself and came completely apart, shuddering as he bit back a loud moan. Then Blaine opened his eyes again, but his eyelids hung heavily. He grinned at Kurt through the screen.

"I love you," Kurt cooed.

"I love you too," Blaine responded through a yawn.

Kurt giggled. "Goodnight, Blaine. Get some sleep now."

"Goodnight, babe."

Kurt pressed his finger to the end call button on the screen and sighed as he set the tablet aside and leaned back, sinking into the bed. He shivered from the air conditioning and then pulled the covers up over himself.

-s-

Fresh from the shower, a towel-clad Kurt cranked open the window, and the heat from outside licked at the cool beads of moisture on his skin. He squinted as he looked out across the way. Placing his palm against the glass, Kurt lifted his phone off the desk with his free hand and checked his weather app. This was certainly going to be a sunscreen, sunglasses, and shorts kind of day, he thought.

As he dressed and readied himself, he wondered what the challenge could entail if they were going to the beach. Blaine had been the one inspired by bodies of water, not Kurt, but he reminded himself again that he wasn't the one designing. It was going to be difficult to get into the mindset of being a mentor, and he had a feeling it was would be tense and a tad bit claustrophobic sitting in that lounge with the other two challenge after challenge.

But he closed the window, gathered himself and his belongings, and left the hotel room. He felt a wave of excitement wash over him as he waited for the elevator. When it finally chirped its arrival, he climbed in and pressed the button for the lobby.


	4. Chapter Four: À LA Mode

Sweet. Ice cream. Twenty-four bizarre but sinfully delicious sounding flavors made fresh on the premises. And Kurt was really hoping that he could sample a few - if not all.

He felt like a traitor when he finally held a cup of it in his hands and tasted it. His taste buds exploded, and he closed his eyes, allowing the cold, creamy, sugary goodness to melt on his tongue. There was an ice cream shop under the Brooklyn Bridge that he and Blaine had discovered and decided was their new favorite place in the city - the milkshakes were divine - , but with each spoonful, he realized that LA was turning him.

The challenge required the designers to pick a flavor supplied by the little ice cream shop by the beach and create a design based on it. Kurt approached his designers who had taken over a bench by the walk. As they sat sketching, he figured it was his time to step in and see how he could help guide them.

With a cup of nearly devoured chocolate, marshmallow, and bacon ice cream in one hand, Ruby was sketching furiously, and Kurt didn't want to interrupt her creative process, so he moved on to Sam who seemed a little less sure of himself.

"Hey," Kurt began, and Sam looked up. "What have you got so far?"

"I really want to play with the colors, so I was thinking about this short, flowy dress with this detail here," Sam tapped his pencil on the page, pointing out a spot where the fabric seemed to be draped, "and a few here to imitate the toppings." His shoulders slumped as he looked at Kurt. Kurt didn't understand why the kid seemed so unsure of himself. His construction could use some work, but he had good ideas.

"I think you have something good here, Sam. It has a lot of potential," Kurt said, studying the color palette, browns for the chocolate, whites and creams for the vanilla, and shades of pink for the fresh strawberry sauce that was drizzled on top of Sam's sundae of choice.

"Thanks. I just need to get to Mood and sorta feel it out, ya know?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. Just try to stay focused." Sam nodded in reply, adjusted his glasses, and then went back to sketching.

Kurt moved down the line to where Marco was seated, spooning the last bit of salted fudge ice cream with caramel into his mouth.

"Oh, Kurt," he began, "how do you feel about this?" He pointed to the collar of the shirt in his sketch.

"Is that -?" Kurt squinted, trying to make out what he thought might be a hood.

"It's a hood."

Of course, Kurt thought. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"Sure," Marco said.

"Don't. I mean, the rest of your sketch is intriguing, but adding a hood is just too much. It doesn't look right to me," Kurt said, figuring that honesty would give him the best chance of winning.

"Alright. I'll make some changes," Marco responded. "Thank you."

"Did you need any help, Viola?" Kurt asked. She always seemed like she was in another world, but while she sat designing, she looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She was the designer he hadn't expected to get, and he still wasn't sure how to handle her.

"I'm making a three-piece suit to represent the three parts of the rainbow sherbet," she explained. "That's my favorite. And I know it's ambitious, but I got the idea and now I can't get it out of my head."

Kurt swallowed hard. "That's fine. Just do yourself a favor and don't over complicate it. You only have a day to complete this challenge, and losing you in the beginning would suck," he said bluntly.

"I promise, I'll do my best," Viola said, placing her hand over her heart. "I don't want to let you down."

Kurt stepped back, took a deep breath, and finally approached Ruby who seemed to be making final tweaks to her sketch. He made his way over to her and sat down beside her on the bench. She looked up with a grin and moved a piece of hair from out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"So, I came up with this." She held up the sketch, and Kurt's eyes grew wide.

"Wow, um, i-it's," he stuttered. "Breathtaking." It was just a sketch, but Kurt was seriously blown away by Ruby. Beginning with the collar of the jacket, Kurt's eyes scanned the sketch, shifting rapidly from one detail to the next, the colors and design directing the eye in the most aesthetically pleasing way. If it hadn't been designed for a woman, Kurt would wear it in a heartbeat, not that that had stopped him in the past with fashion choices.

"Oh god I'm so glad you think so. I was so worried."

"Don't be. Ever. Always go with your gut. I have no criticism for your work. I completely trust you with the execution on this one," he said.

She was too humble for her own good, he thought. Kurt didn't believe that he had to look out for Ruby, but he hoped that by the end of the competition, and she _would_ make it to the end, she would recognize the extent of her talent and gain the confidence she deserved to have.

-s-

It was strange being on the other side of the wall. Kurt saw more of Isaac and Amanda than any of the designers. And not being in the workroom was difficult for him because Kurt needed to be hands-on. His fingers moved on their own accord, drumming against his leg. He wondered if this was how it felt to be the boss. He was, the boss that is, but he couldn't imagine getting so big that he no longer had any part in executing his own designs. That just wasn't him.

Tim Gunn entered the lounge. "Are you guys ready to visit the workroom?"

"You have no idea," Kurt said, rising from the couch.

Amanda laughed. "He's been twitching like a fiend. Just let him touch fabric already."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at her. Isaac sighed - or yawned...Kurt couldn't tell. But it became apparent that Isaac wanted nothing to do with Amanda either.

Accompanied by Tim Gunn for moral support and general guidance, Kurt made his way around the room to meet with his mentees.

Marco's look was really coming along. He ended up choosing to do a casual blazer over a skinny pant, and Kurt had very few criticisms. When he moved on to Ruby, his eyes lit up. Seeing her design come to life like it had actually gave him chills, and he walked away with a broad grin still plastered on his face. Next was Viola, and Kurt was pleasantly surprised when he saw how much she had completed in so little time. On top of that, he actually really liked her design. She just needed to focus on finishing and cleaning up the hemlines. Sam was the final designer in his lineup, and Kurt approached the half-clad dress form on which he was working.

"It's very ready-to-wear, I think," Kurt said, his hand at his chin as he continued to examine the look.

"Thank you," Sam said. "It's kinda what I was going for. Something that you might actually see someone wearing on the beach while they ate ice cream."

"I like it. It's simple, but it's chic."

"And it has pockets!" he said with a knowing nod.

"Well, in that case." Kurt laughed. "You better get to work. You have the least complete out of the team, so just try to finish up. From this point on, just go with your gut," Kurt said, realizing it was the second time that day he had used that phrase. He needed a better catchphrase if he aspired to be like the next Tim Gunn, he thought. He'd have to work on that.

As Kurt walked away from his designers and exited the workroom with the other mentors, he felt his chest swell with pride.

-s-

Once again, the Project Runway judges managed to completely baffle Kurt and make him question if maybe he was the one who was missing something. He really hadn't seen any issue with Sam's look, but there he stood in the bottom three at risk for elimination.

And with a resounding, "out", Kurt officially lost his first mentee.

With the elimination over, Kurt stood in his hotel room, arms wrapped around himself, staring out the window in attempt to clear his head. Old habits die hard, he thought. Knowing that he had already lost a designer was a hit to his ego. He had believed in all of them, but perhaps his judgment was flawed. He had to keep reminding himself that this was Project Runway, after all. Sometimes the judges' decisions seemed completely illogical.

The hotel room suddenly felt too small, and he couldn't stay inside any longer. The slight breeze through the window wasn't enough, and he needed fresh air. When he felt this way at home, he would take a stroll around the block or walk down to the bakery on the corner to calm his nerves. It was still early enough, and the sun hadn't set yet. So he stepped out.

How he found himself at the water again, he had no idea. He had been keen to hop buses around town, but after about an hour, he was in Santa Monica, taking in the view of the Pacific Ocean, the palm trees swaying in the warm breeze. The sun was just about to dip over the horizon and sink, bringing on night.

At that moment, the words of a song he was quite fond of came to mind. Kurt Hummel couldn't stay cooped up, "looking out of the window, staying out of the sun..." This was freedom.

As he watched the sunset, Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket, wanting nothing but to hear Blaine's voice. He needed to vent, but right now he felt serene and knew that Blaine would only soothe him further.

He began to walk toward the water as the phone rang through, absentmindedly making his way to the pier. Then Blaine picked up.

"Kurt," he said upon answering, and Kurt could hear a smile in his voice.

"Hey there," Kurt said quietly.

"How did the first real challenge go? It was today, right?"

"Yeah. It was okay, but -"

"But what? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but one of my mentees already got eliminated."

"I'm so sorry, babe. That isn't - you know you had no control over it," Blaine said.

"Yes and no. Just because I had no direct control over the situation and the decision doesn't mean I don't feel responsible. I really believed he had a good design. I didn't give him any suggestions, just told him to go with his gut, and, well..."

"It happens, Kurt. It's only the beginning, and I know you're amazing. You've got this. I believe in you."

Kurt chuckled. "You're biased," he joked. "I think there would be a problem if my husband didn't believe in me."

"C'mon, Kurt. Don't be like that," Blaine said.

"I'm sorry. I know. I am awesome at what I do. I guess it was just a bit of bad luck early in the game. Just doesn't help morale any, but I've picked myself back up from worse."

There was a brief moment of silence and then a sigh on Blaine's end.

"Don't overthink it too much," Blaine said.

"I try not to. Talking to you really does make everything better," Kurt said.

"I'm proud of you, Kurt. Remember that it's just a competition. It doesn't make or break who you are."

"Thank you, Blaine." Kurt gripped the cool metal of the railing with his free hand and leaned forward.

"Where are you by the way? There's a lot of noise in the background."

"I'm on the pier in Santa Monica. It's lovely out here. The ocean is just so...peaceful. I would say romantic, but it just feels lonely without you here by my side," Kurt said.

"I think it's so crazy that you're on the opposite end of the continent. I always wondered if the Pacific Ocean was any more magnificent than the Atlantic," Blaine said.

"It might just have to do with the unfamiliarity of it, but there's definitely something magical about how the sunset reflects off the water," Kurt said, his eyes watching the waves roll in and then retreat. He could hear the gentle roar of the water beneath the pier as it slapped against the sturdy columns holding up the walkway.

"I can imagine," Blaine said softly.

"I wish you didn't have to. Believe me, I could go on and on about missing you and wishing you were here like the cliche of a homesick man separated from the love of his life, but that won't change the situation. And at least the situation is a good one and very temporary."

"I know I already said it, but I'm so proud of you, Kurt."

Kurt took a deep breath, closing his eyes and breathing in the salty sea breeze, and then exhaled.

"Me too. And I've never been happier than I am knowing that you'll always be there to welcome me home."


	5. Chapter Five: Tyler

Blaine hadn't realized that, despite the fact Tyler had been working for them for over a year now, he really didn't know that much about the guy, except that he was young and very easy on the eyes. Maybe he had subconsciously decided that he didn't want to know - he was Kurt's personal assistant after all - and he had on various occasions felt a little stab of jealousy when he saw how they got along with each other. Now with Kurt gone, he had no choice but to interact with him, and, since he was feeling a bit cut off and lonely, Blaine thought now was a better time than ever to make an effort.

While making the rounds and checking up on everyone, Blaine spotted Tyler at his desk looking over spreadsheets. When he walked toward the desk, Tyler looked up and grinned.

"Hey, Mr. Anderson," he said. He rose from his seat, seemingly out of respect.

Blaine laughed; he couldn't help himself. "What's with the formality?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know - I just - it's just that this is the first time you've ever really come to talk to me. Usually it's just Kurt."

"Yeah, no, I understand. But, you can call me Blaine."

"Okay. Did you need something...Blaine? I can finish this later," Tyler said, automatically sliding the papers he'd been working from into a folder and to the side of the desk.

"Yeah, I think...I need you to go pick up lunch. For two," Blaine added. "And then I'm going to need you to take your lunch and meet me in the break room."

"Oh - okay." Tyler began to get up, but he looked uneasy.

"It's nothing to be worried about," Blaine assured him. "It's like you said, I just realized that I haven't taken the time to get to know you. I can't have that while you're working for us. Especially since you work so hard and help us out so much. Makes me feel like a jerk."

Tyler laughed. "Alright. So, what will it be then for lunch?"

"The choice is yours. I'm not picky. But hurry back, please, because I'm starving."

"Will do, Blaine." And he left the office and hurried out along the street.

Blaine finished checking in on a few of the others before making his way to the break room and making himself comfortable. He poured himself a cup of coffee and settled down at his usual table in the corner by the window. He sipped the steaming beverage as he looked out through the glass, not actually focusing on anything, before turning his head back toward the room.

About twenty minutes later, the door swung open, and Tyler entered with two paper bags filled with takeout containers. Blaine's eyes widened at the amount of food, and he wondered who exactly was going to eat all that.

"Sushi," Tyler said, setting the bags down on the table. "It's my favorite."

"Good to know," Blaine said. He gestured for Tyler to sit.

They unpacked the food in silence, and Blaine struggled with how to begin. He didn't want to make it awkward. In fact, his intention was to make things less awkward between them. Tyler kept his eyes downcast, moving the now open containers around the table.

"So you're only twenty?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah. Still in college. But I'll be twenty-one next month, and I'm graduating this May."

"FIT, right?"

"Yep. I like to design, but I'm more interested in the business aspect of the fashion industry. I'm an Advertising and Marketing Communications major. I'm better with my brain than I am with my hands." Then Tyler pulled a face when he realized what he'd said.

Blaine decided to pretend he hadn't heard to save him from embarrassment. "So, you go to Kurt's alma mater. It's no wonder he likes you so much. Merit is me, I guess," Blaine laughed to himself.

"Yeah, I guess so. We kinda bonded over that. Kurt told me that you didn't go to school."

"I didn't - not for fashion, anyway," Blaine said. He grabbed a piece of sushi, dipped it in the soy sauce, and popped it into his mouth.

"But you're so talented. I - I love your work. Do you think you'll ever design menswear again?"

"Thank you. I'm surprised you knew about that, and I'm flattered. Um, I'm not sure. I suppose it could be one of the next steps in the development of our label."

"I think it would be a wise move - I've already thought about how to introduce and promote it, and I've even reinvented the logo - oh, shit. I'm being too bold, aren't I." Tyler looked down at the table.

Blaine was taken aback. "Whoa. I mean, wow. No, that's amazing. You remind me so much of Kurt right now. Ambitious, yes, but it doesn't hurt to have passionate individuals on our team."

"I could show you what I came up with one day," Tyler said, hopeful.

"Maybe. When Kurt is home, since we both like to be involved with all big decisions."

Tyler's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Mr. - Blaine. Thank you so much!"

"No, thank you," Blaine said, "and please pass me those dragon rolls, because they look delicious." He pointed with his chopsticks, and with a "yes, sir" and a laugh, Tyler slid the container across the tabletop.

After much small talk, a few bad jokes on Blaine's end, a small wasabi incident, and some laughter, they finished their lunch, and Blaine parted ways with Tyler, leaving him to finish up his work for the day.

-s-

Breaking the ice with Tyler felt really good, but as soon as Blaine closed up shop, made his way home, and threw himself down on the couch in front of the television, he realized that he needed a hobby. Without Kurt, it was too quiet in the apartment, and Blaine shamefully found himself sitting on his ass all day when he was home, hoping time would just speed up. It never did, and on his days off, it was even worse: he simply sat in bed and turned the television on in the room, often falling back asleep to reruns of Full House.

So it was decided that day that he would do something about it. Blaine threw on some workout clothes and headed to the gym in their building. However, about ten minutes in, he was already bored out of his skull. He felt like a hamster running on a wheel, and he wondered how and why people did this every day.

But it soon occurred to him that there was a much better way to remain active and still have fun. With a relatively quick search and phone call, Blaine signed up for a dance class and was invited to come in the same day to become acquainted with the location and the instructors. Still in his sweats, he locked up and headed out to the studio, eager to recapture a little piece of his past and to learn some new moves in the process.

-s-

When Blaine returned home later in the evening, he almost cheered when he glanced at the clock and saw that it was late enough to call Kurt. He was still so intrigued by what had happened during the day with Tyler, that he wanted to find out if Kurt was already aware of it all.

"No. That's crazy. I knew what he was studying, but I had no idea how involved or interested he was in our affairs." Kurt paused. "I'm just boggled over why he decided to tell you and not me."

"Maybe you intimidate him. You can be intimidating at times," Blaine said matter-of-factly.

"But - he and I get along so well that I would never have thought that. He's about to graduate too," Kurt said.

"He told me. I think it's great that we ended up with a PA who knows PR, don't you think, Kurt?"

"Definitely. And, who knows, maybe we can bring him on the team when the opportunity arises. It may be necessary if the business continues to grow like it has been." Kurt let out a deep breath. "I'm happy you two are bonding."

"I just figured it might be a good idea, ya know? And I was pleasantly surprised."

"Well, don't get too attached to my PA, Blaine," Kurt teased. "I'm going to want him back when I return."

"You have nothing to worry about. I promise."

"I know. Tell him I said hi," Kurt said. "I have to go now, though. My break is just about up."

"Oh, sorry," Blaine said, glancing at the clock on the stove.

"It's okay. They're filming a few interviews before we wrap for the day, so I gotta get back out there."

"And I'm exhausted, so I'll have to say goodnight," Blaine said.

"Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight."

-s-

The dance studio was situated near Prospect Park, a quick subway ride away from the apartment, and Blaine took great care to dress comfortably and accordingly for his first dance class, remembering many a grueling dance practice back in high school. Show choir was no joke, but he felt rusty after so many years, having only danced last at the club and with Kurt on their wedding day. The class he had signed up for was a fusion of jazz and hip hop, and, although he had past experience, Blaine was still worried that he might make an ass of himself.

Once he made it through the initial stretches, Blaine was feeling lithe and ready to get back into the swing of things. The first few steps were basic, and he got them down easily, realizing just how much his muscle memory had retained. The instructor seemed to take notice of Blaine and even praised him for doing so well on the first day.

He left the studio feeling exhausted but at the same time energized. Just getting in there and moving like that again rejuvenated Blaine, and he could feel the endorphins coursing through him, adding a slight skip to his step.

He was humming a tune of a song he had heard recently up until he got to his apartment, and, once inside, he broke out into a full-on belt, a one-man rendition of Story of My Life. When Blaine sang the final line of the last chorus, he laughed softly to himself, shaking his head as he sat down on his bed and removed his clothing from the day. After a quick shower, he was ready to collapse into bed and sleep for hours.

One Direction was a fairly recent obsession of Kurt's and also his music of choice to dance around and sing along to while cooking or cleaning. Blaine laid back, closing his eyes, and imagined Kurt in his skinny jeans, undershirt, and socks, shimmying his hips around and sliding across the kitchen tile or hardwood. That's when Blaine would come up behind him, joining in, harmonizing, and place his hands on Kurt's waist to dance along with him.

He let out a heavy sigh and opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on the ceiling.

Blaine's heart ached a bit as he laid there, thinking about when the next time would be when he'd be able to do that again with Kurt. Then he couldn't help but think about how Kurt hadn't called him at all today. It was unusual, but he wouldn't hold it against him. He had received one picture message earlier in the day from a proud Kurt showing off a new accessory, but, after that, nothing.

Blaine rolled over in the bed and grabbed up his laptop from the nightstand where he kept it open and on these days, just in case Kurt decided to Skype him. He clicked open his web browser, checked a few things, and then opened up a new tab to check his Twitter.

Through a lengthy yawn, Blaine typed:

* * *

(a)emBarKurt: "You may be my lucky star

But I'm the luckiest by far." #missyou

* * *

Then he closed the laptop and set it aside, allowing the room to be completely engulfed in darkness.

And when his phone dinged with a push notification, Blaine was already sound asleep, curled up on his side, his arms wrapped around and nose nuzzled into Kurt's pillow.


	6. Chapter Six: Filed Away and Forgotten

"Just a minute," Kurt called out after hearing five successive raps on his hotel room door.

He pulled on a t-shirt before grabbing the handle, sliding open the deadbolt, and pulling open the door. It was early still, and he hadn't had the chance to hop in the shower yet. Kurt couldn't imagine who could possibly be calling at this hour. But, through bleary eyes, he saw someone on the other side he never would have expected to see at his door. Like, ever.

"Good morning, Kurt," Isaac said. "I'm sorry I came here so early."

"But - why are you here? How did you even know which room I was in?" Kurt asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

"I asked at the desk, and they told me -"

"Great," Kurt mumbled. He felt incredibly safe now that he knew anyone, friend or psycho, could come waltzing up to his hotel room, courtesy of inept Courtesy.

"And I wanted to catch you before you left for the day for production," Isaac said.

"What could be so important that you needed to talk to me before I've had my coffee?" Kurt grumbled.

"Coffee," Isaac said simply. Then a grin broke across his face.

"Wha -?"

"Coffee, Kurt. Do you want to grab some coffee and maybe a light breakfast with me?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to psych me out or something?"

Isaac laughed. "No. It's just that - I haven't seen you in years. Not since Project Runway...not since FIT...I thought we could catch up?"

"You act as though we have a history," Kurt said.

"Well," Isaac began, shrugging. "Is that a yes?"

"I don't know. Give me about an hour to make myself look human again, and I'll let you know."

"I'll be down in the lobby. I'll wait."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. Coffee is serious business. I'll wait." Isaac smiled again, and Kurt couldn't help but return it before rolling his eyes and closing the door.

-s-

Kurt had made a conscious effort to shut out much of his life before Blaine, especially his college years and those that followed. More specifically, he tried to shut out all the memories of hookups and almost-but-never-would-be-boyfriends, because it wasn't a time in his life that he was proud of. His self-esteem was still naught after high school, and he had never actually felt close to any of the guys he was involved with. It wasn't a number so large that he couldn't count on one hand, and Blaine knew. They had had that conversation when they first started getting serious, but Kurt had never mentioned any names. It hadn't been important.

"Kurt," Isaac said, stirring him from his musings. "You need to actually drink the coffee to feel the full effect."

"Of course. How could I be so stupid," he said sarcastically. Kurt lifted the stirrer out of the coffee, brought the steaming cup to his mouth, blew lightly on the surface of the dark liquid, and then took a sip.

"Feel any better?" Isaac asked as Kurt set the cup down.

"Much better. Now, are you going to tell me why you brought me here under false pretenses?" Kurt asked. "I know better."

"What? I didn't lie to you, I just never told you the reason why in the first place -"

"Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, there's a ring on my finger, and I am in love with that man, so don't get the wrong idea," Kurt said. "This is _just_ coffee."

Isaac laughed. "You've changed."

"What a statement." Of course he had changed, Kurt thought, and thank god he had.

"You used to be so angry and so -" Isaac seemed like he couldn't find the word he had wanted to say.

"Easy? Young? Naïve?" Kurt scoffed, offering him a few. "Please, don't act like you know me. What happened between us was a one time thing, and I regret every second of it."

"Wow. Thanks. You get right to the point, don't you."

"No problem." Kurt stirred the latte again before taking another sip. "What would be the purpose of beating around the bush? You said you didn't want any weirdness between us, so I'm going to be straightforward."

It was silent for a moment, and then Isaac shook his head. "It's been years, Kurt. You're not a student anymore, and I'm not a professor."

"I know. You won Project Runway, and you made it in the industry. I wouldn't have gone back to teach either if I had been in your place," Kurt said.

"I don't know. I would probably go back to teach at FIT if they asked me to," Isaac said. He took a few sips of his coffee, peering over the brim of the cup at Kurt.

"Maybe you shouldn't," Kurt said bitterly, but then caught himself. "I mean, seriously, what are the chances that I'm once again put into a situation where I'm up against you in one way or another?"

"Oh, a joke." Isaac smirked.

"I _am_ a man of many talents," Kurt continued to jest.

"I know. I remember..." Isaac's eyes glazed over but the smirk remained on his face as he watched Kurt from across the table.

Kurt squirmed in his seat, feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going in, and he thought quickly to change the subject. "So, it's crazy how we're mentors now. I'm having such a hard time adjusting to being on the other side of the design process, but, despite my initial hit, I really do feel good about this competition."

Isaac shifted in his seat, his attention restored. "Third time's a charm?"

Kurt laughed. "Yeah, maybe." He paused to take a long drink of his coffee. "Admittedly, it would be easier if my competition was anyone other than you. I'm not exactly fond of being reminded of my mistakes and failures."

"Listen. I meant what I said before. I respect you, and I'm not trying to stir up trouble while I'm here."

"Then what exactly were you hoping to get out of this shared coffee?" Kurt asked.

"Just some time. With you. And coffee," Isaac said.

Kurt laughed. "Well, thanks for the coffee."

"Anytime." Isaac sighed. He looked down at the table, and then his eyes traveled along to rest on Kurt's ring. "So...you went and got married. Is it true that it was the guy from All Stars?"

"Yes. Blaine Anderson."

"You must have a thing for your competition. Could have been me."

"No," Kurt started. He groaned in frustration, but then calmed himself down. "Honestly, Isaac, you don't know anything about me. And there was never anything between us. What did happen was inappropriate, and it's in the past."

"Calm down, it was just a joke. I'm happy for you."

Kurt wasn't convinced and was feeling irritable now, so he pulled his phone out to check the time. "We need to get out of here if we want to be on time for filming."

"Oh, yes. Then we better go." Isaac rose from his chair, and Kurt followed suit, happy to be ending this conversation between them.

-s-

An enormous office supply store was the last place Kurt had expected to spend his day, but he had to admit that it called for a very interesting unconventional challenge, and he was excited to see what the designers would come up with.

Kurt tried his best to avoid Isaac for the rest of the day because he needed some space and some time to cool off from earlier. For someone who had claimed to want to avoid drama, Isaac was doing a terrible job. Kurt just wished he hadn't let Isaac get under his skin, but he had, and now Kurt was reliving parts of his past in his mind.

Kurt had flown through his courses at The Fashion Institute of Technology, fast and furiously. While he was meticulous with his workmanship and everything he completed and presented for the grade, he was reckless with whom he decided to keep company. All it had taken was a few flirty comments from a charming young professor after class one day, and Kurt bit. He liked the attention. It was something new to him, being the object of someone's desires, someone he could actually feel the same way about.

Isaac had been the one to drop him a line about the Project Runway auditions, and Kurt swiftly threw his portfolio together and scheduled his interview. When he was accepted, he knew he didn't owe anything to Isaac, but Kurt certainly had been in a different place in his life then. After months of teasing and blatantly playing coy, Kurt and Isaac went out for drinks to celebrate both making the show. Kurt proceeded to make himself emotionally and mentally numb with alcohol, and they went back to Isaac's where one thing led to another. It wasn't something Kurt even remembered much of, and he was grateful that he hadn't. Even though he wanted Isaac, he was still one of his professors. That, coupled with a night of drunken sex, was not how he wanted to start a relationship. He had just enough self-respect to never allow it to happen again.

Luckily, by the time the mentors made it back to the lounge, Kurt had managed to shake most of it off so that he could once again focus his full attention where it was needed, on the competition and on his mentees.

The first thing to catch Kurt's eye in the work room was metal. So much metal. And when he realized it was on Viola's dress form and table, he felt slightly panicked. There were binder clips, spring clips, metal mesh organizers, some things Kurt couldn't identify, and even some padlocks for which he couldn't imagine her plans.

Ruby was breaking colorful transparent plastic rulers apart and laying them down on muslin in a mosaic of sorts. The color palette was quite lovely, Kurt thought, but he wondered how it would look in the end and whether or not Ruby would have enough time to finish.

Marco was tearing apart a leather desk chair, carefully pulling out the seams as Kurt watched. Kurt had two main concerns: leather is difficult to work with if one doesn't have much practice, and this was the unconventional challenge during which using conventional materials was generally frowned upon. Everyone knew that, so he wondered why Marco had opted to approach it in this way. All Kurt wanted was to find out that there was some sort of twist to his thinking.

"So, you're using the leather from the chair?" Kurt asked. "Did you spend your entire budget on the two you bought?"

"No, not at all. I bought some other stuff," Marco pointed to his bag on the floor which Kurt tried to peer into. "I am using the leather. In fact, I'm using the entire chair."

"That's going to be interesting to see. I'm guessing it's not going to look quite like the sketch you presented to me earlier."

"I did need to change things up a bit after I got my materials," Marco admitted.

"The only thing I'm concerned about is the leather, working with it, that is," Kurt said.

"Don't worry. I spent an entire semester doing leather work, and I've got quite a few tricks up my sleeve."

"I'll just have to trust you," Kurt said. "And I do. Just try to use the other things you bought, too, because the judges will not want to see fabric on the runway. Not this much, anyway."

"I know. Thank you, Kurt."

When he was finished visiting all his mentees, Kurt looked back over at them one last time, scanning the room, table to dress form to table to dress form, and suddenly it hit him that the place looked like some weird S&M den with all the metal and the leather and the tools the designers were using to break down objects. He shivered but then let out a brief chuckle on his way out and back to the lounge.

-s-

Kurt's thumbs danced across the screen of the phone as he tapped out a message and hit send:

_hey there, cutie. how is my husband today?_

He rolled over onto his back in the bed, pulling the blanket up over himself, snuggling in and getting comfortable in anticipation of a response. His phone dinged no more than a minute later.

_**idk. how is he?**_

_haha. very funny. :p_

_**I am, but don't have much energy to talk. was out all night working out and I'm tired**_

_you? working out?_

_**yeah.**_

_who are you? it's like I don't even know you. you are not my husband._

_**you texted me. where'd you get my number?**_

_I bought it off this sketchy guy on the street. told me I could call it for a good time._

_**or text it?**_

_yep ;)_

_**didn't **** you learn from Seymour Krelborn's mistakes not to buy things off strange people on the street?**_

_as long as you promise not to suck my blood, then I think we'll be okay_

_**I have been known to like how you taste ;)**_

_I'll feed you as long as you promise not to devour all my loved ones_

_**see? we learn so much from musicals.**_

_we're just dorks. you more than me :D_

Kurt sat there staring at the phone waiting for a response, confused why Blaine wasn't as quick. It took a few minutes for him to respond, but the conversation picked right back up.

_**probably. but it works for us**_

_sure does...what prompted you to go work out btw?_

His phone didn't ding again with a message for a good five minutes. So he texted:

_..._

Again, no response.

_Blaine?_

Kurt set the phone down once he was certain he wasn't going to get a reply. It wasn't as if Blaine hadn't warned him that he could fall asleep any second, and it was apparent that he had done just that.

-s-

The presentation of the garments from the unconventional challenge was exciting to see, and Kurt felt a surge of pride at seeing his mentees' final looks. And, while the deliberation was stressful, Kurt was overwhelmingly happy that he didn't lose a member of his team this time. They had the next day off from filming, and Kurt was grateful to be able to spend some time getting back into the right headspace and to clear out all the debris left behind by hurricane Isaac.


	7. Chapter Seven: Formalities

Kurt never got to attend any dances while he was in high school. He never got to dress up to the nines, hang on the arm of a handsome, debonair gentleman, and be proudly shown off to his family and friends while they embarrassed him and took way too many pictures, most of which would turn out to be unflattering. It was probably one of the reasons he took his wedding so seriously, why he went all out and made sure that it was every bit as special as any fantasy he ever had about romance and dancing and falling in love. He was like Cinderella finally getting to go to the ball after her invitation was lost in the mail several times, and Blaine was his perfect Prince Charming, with whom he was glad the celebration didn't end at midnight. And never would.

No, Kurt didn't experience his teenage years like any normal boy was meant to, how the films, books, and television shows promised him it would be like. Because he wasn't normal, didn't fit any mold or live up to the ideals of others. But he was okay with that. Because, even though life took him for a bumpy ride and wrecked him somewhere along the way, Kurt felt like a much better and stronger person for it. He felt as if he truly understood just how valuable life was and the value of having people around him who loved and supported him with whom he could share it.

So when he saw the models for this particular challenge enter the workroom to meet his mentees, all young, wide-eyed high school girls preparing to attend their winter formal, wanting every bit as much a part of the fantasy and the magic as he had wanted, Kurt knew that he couldn't possibly allow his team to let them down. They were underprivileged girls from towns all over the state, chosen especially to have custom gowns made for their big nights, so they could feel normal, proud, and beautiful, and Kurt wanted them to have all that and more. He wished he could personally dress all of them, and it was killing him that he had to once again stand back and be not much more than a cheerleader.

Kurt was acutely aware that his guidance would be crucial today due to the nature of this challenge. It would be doubly challenging for his mentees to not only design for a nontraditional model but to design for a client, the age of whom made it even trickier.

"I really like your bag."

Kurt wasn't sure of the source of the compliment at first, and he pivoted around, searching.

"Marc Jacobs, right?" Marco said. "It really is a nice messenger bag. I bet it's durable, too."

Kurt felt a blush begin to creep up his neck and into his ears, and he found himself grinning bashfully and staring down at the bag, running his fingertips across the dark, pebbled leather. "Yeah. I love it. My husband bought it for me."

"He's a very smart man with a very keen eye for fashion," Marco said.

"You have no idea," Kurt said, still grinning. "Or maybe you do. Blaine Anderson, my husband, he was very much a part of the Project Runway world as well."

"Blaine! Yes! You competed against each other on All Stars, right? That must have been weird."

Kurt laughed. "We weren't together while we were competing on the show - well, we got together during it. Sorta. It's a little complicated, but, yeah. He's very talented and impresses me every day. Just when you think you know everything about him, that you've learned all his secrets, he surprises you. And that's what I love about him."

"My girlfriend, I've been with her for five years now, I feel that way about her too."

"It's hard to be away from them, isn't it?" Kurt asked. "I don't think it's a thing I could ever get used to."

"It's hard, but when they're your world, they're really with you all the time."

"That's really sweet, Marco. I never thought you were a big softy."

"Love does things to a man."

"Amen to that," Kurt said, and they both laughed until Kurt cleared his throat, realizing they should get back on task. "Anyway, it's time to get back to work. My advice to you is to make sure you talk to your client and pay very close attention to her wants and needs. While it's very important to stay true to your own design aesthetic, it's even more important to make sure your client feels comfortable, sexy - on top of the world even - in your design. Because in the end, it's about them, not you. I'm sure you'll do fine. If you can hold on to a woman for as long as you have, then you must know how to listen."

"That I do," Marco said with a grin.

Kurt's attention was suddenly pulled elsewhere. He apologized to Marco and stepped away, heading off to the side of the room to get a better look, hoping that it wasn't what he thought. Then he saw it clearly: the familiar arm touch, the way he moved in closer as they talked, the softening of his voice, how he made a point to brush his fingers against the other person's hand at every opportunity. Kurt felt bile rising up in his throat as he watched Isaac with his mentee, Dylan, who was only twenty-two and basking in the attention, completely unaware of Isaac's true intentions. But Kurt knew, and he'd be damned if he let it go on. When it was time for the mentors to head back to the lounge, Kurt followed Amanda and Isaac out.

Isaac turned and took a detour down another hallway, and Kurt followed him right into the bathroom. If he wanted to confront Isaac, then this would be the ideal place to do it, off camera and away from the prying eyes and ears of others.

"Have you come in here to watch me take a piss?" Isaac said, seeing Kurt in the mirror and turning around to face him.

"How dare you," Kurt snarled.

"Ah, you just came in here to harass me, then. What do you want?"

"Do you have some sort of teacher-student kink? Or are you just a creep?"

"Do I detect jealousy?" Isaac looked amused with himself.

"Hardly. You wish that was even remotely what this is about." Kurt huffed and crossed his arms.

"I don't think you have any room to judge or speak for that matter - I'm not getting into this with you. You had your chance, and you blew it."

"You're despicable. If you don't stop what you're doing, I won't be afraid to say something."

"Oh, so you're going to try to get me disqualified, is that what you're saying? Is it because that may be your only chance of ever beating me at something?" Isaac taunted.

"If I wasn't the bigger man in this situation, I would punch you so hard, you wouldn't remember where you were. But since I won't stoop to your level, I'm going to walk away," Kurt fought to keep his voice steady.

"I'd be careful with what you say...someone could perceive it as a threat. Then who would be the one at risk of getting himself into trouble?"

"I'm done with you. We're done here. If I see you acting inappropriately with anyone, I'm going straight to the producers." Kurt turned and began to walk swiftly away, never giving Isaac a chance to respond. Even if he had, Kurt wouldn't have heard it because his blood was pounding in his ears. He was fuming because he couldn't believe any of this was actually going on.

Kurt entered the lounge and dropped heavily onto the couch, crossing his legs and arms. He began chewing on his bottom lip in his frustration.

"What's _your_ problem?" Amanda said, glancing up from her phone.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"What, did Blaine accidentally mix your colors with your whites while doing laundry?"

"What are you even talking about?"

"You two are all domestic now, right? I just figured that you were in a tizzy about some trivial dispute that only lame old married couples get in," she said.

"First of all, we are _not_ lame, nor are we old, and, no. This has nothing to do with Blaine. But it's also none of your business, so I would appreciate it if you could just keep yourself from offering your two tarnished cents every time you want to hear yourself talk."

"You know what, Hummel? You're right. I'm just bored, and maybe I feel like the only way I can get a response out of you is if I take a dig at you. You're always so uptight that it actually worries me sometimes."

"I resent that statement. I am _not_ always uptight." Kurt sighed heavily, calming himself down. "I think these competitions do something to my head, make me all -"

"Uptight," Amanda offered.

Kurt glared at her and then rolled his eyes. "I give up."

"No, I get it, I really do. I'm not magically immune to it. We're all under the same stress, and I know how much it helps to have a friend here, or at least someone to talk to during all this madness."

Kurt looked up at Amanda, tilted his head as he considered her, and then it was as if he was seeing her for the first time.

"I guess I never took the time to consider why Blaine liked you. He's always been a good judge of character, never one to rule somebody out before giving them a chance. Maybe I could take a page out of his book."

And then Amanda smiled such a warm, sincere smile, something Kurt had never seen on her before, and her frigid exterior seemed to have finally melted away to reveal a person, a person Kurt might actually find it possible to like.

The door opened to the lounge, and Isaac entered, cutting through the exchange between the two without acknowledging their presence. Kurt stiffened and sat up straight, his eyes following Isaac. Amanda, noticing the odd behavior, raised a quizzical eyebrow and, when she realized Kurt's attention was compromised and she wouldn't get an explanation, went back to playing on her phone.

Isaac poured himself some coffee and began to pick at the remainder of the snacks that had been laid out for the mentors that day, and Kurt stared at the back of his head for a moment before glancing at the clock on the wall. There were only about forty minutes left of their day, and Kurt promised himself he could get through it. Tim Gunn would be coming in to talk to them one last time before sending them on their way. Kurt's plans for tonight included a nice long shower with the aromatherapy body wash he had bought on his day off, a cup of chamomile tea, and a much needed phone conversation with Blaine.

-s-

Kurt turned the knob on the shower, cutting off the water, grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist, and stepped out onto the cool tile. He already felt so much better and knew that a good night's sleep would do him even more good.

When he climbed into the bed and reached for his phone from off the nightstand, he noticed that he'd missed a picture message from Blaine. He wasted no time bringing it up on the screen, but the smile he'd been wearing in response to seeing Blaine's name dropped almost immediately. Staring back at him from the screen was a slightly scruffy-looking tan and gray dog, the background unmistakably their apartment.

Kurt's fingers couldn't have operated that phone any quicker.

_what the hell is that?_

He waited for a few minutes but didn't receive a response to his text. He knew Blaine had to be by his phone because the message had only been sent about ten minutes prior. Then Kurt brought up his call log and hit call on the most recent contact. When the call connected, Kurt didn't even have a chance to speak before Blaine was rambling into the phone.

"I didn't know how to say no - I couldn't - they were there, and he was there, and I held him - I wish you could have seen his little face, how happy he looked -"

"Whoa, whoa, just slow down, would you?" Kurt said, bringing his hand to his forehead.

Blaine fell silent.

"Blaine...?"

"Kurt...?"

"Okay, so clearly I know the answer to my initial question, but I guess what I want to know is - why?"

"I was out in the city, running a few errands and grabbing lunch, when I passed some sort of event. Naturally, I was curious, and I crossed the street to check it out because there were all these dogs in the park. Well, anyway, it turns out it was Broadway Barks, you know -"

"Yes, I'm familiar," Kurt said.

"Then I made the mistake of petting a couple of the dogs and got myself into a few conversations. They knew who I was, Kurt, and pretty soon they had me telling them all about the dog I had when I was a child."

"Zigzag," Kurt remembered.

"Yeah. So they thought they'd show me this one little guy, a border terrier, and, well, Kurt, I fell instantly in love. He needed a home, and there's enough room in our apartment, so I gave him one..."

"Oh god. I bet they had a field day with you," Kurt laughed. "Did they take a ton of pictures?"

"Yeah."

"Congratulations, Blaine. You're their new poster boy. I'm kidding, but seriously. Your face is going to be on their website for sure. It's a sure-fire way to draw in more of a crowd. Slap someone familiar _and_ attractive on the brochure and - voila! Puppies get adopted."

"You're angry with me, aren't you," Blaine said quietly.

Kurt sighed heavily. "Yes. A bit." But he knew he wasn't really mad at Blaine. Blaine just had some very bad timing.

"Here, give me just one sec..."

Kurt wasn't sure what Blaine was doing, but then he heard the phone ding in his ear as a text message came through. He set the phone on speaker and opened the text only to reveal another picture of the dog curled up and sound asleep in a bed that Blaine had apparently purchased for him. It was in that moment that he melted. But there was no way he was admitting it to Blaine right now.

"Fine. But he's your responsibility. And he sleeps in that bed, not in ours," he added.

"It'll be like having our own little Swatch -"

"Or Oscar," Kurt offered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"He's small and harmless, I promise, so we can bring him to the boutique. He'll be like a little mascot, might even draw in more business," Blaine said, trying to sway Kurt the best he could.

"Or he might just make a mess of everything," Kurt grumbled. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I just never saw myself ever owning a dog. It's going to take some getting used to."

"I know I should have asked first, but he needed a home, and I wanted to surprise you..."

"To be fair, he is really cute. I'm sure he'll grow on me. All in due time."

"I think so too," Blaine said. "Just wait until you meet him and see how sweet he is."

"If he's anything like his owner, then I will love him to death," Kurt said, finally relaxing.

"Thank you, Kurt. For not freaking out on me," Blaine said.

"Worst case scenario is that we have to find him a better home. But I trust you, and I have a feeling that he'll be everything you say and more. Besides, it's better than having a kid, I think."

"Oh - I have to go. Snarls Barkley just woke up, so I need to take him for a walk," Blaine said suddenly.

Kurt burst into laughter, laughing so hard he snorted, then laughed again at himself. "That's what you named him? Snarls Barkley?" he asked, catching his breath. "Why am I even surprised. No, no...I'm not surprised at all. It's a fitting name thought up by such a _crazy_ fool."

"I love you, Kurt," Blaine said, and he could tell that Blaine was smiling.

"I love you too, but some surprises should be a little more well-thought-out. Remember that for the future."

"I will. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow, Blaine. Good night."

"Night, Kurt."

-s-

Despite all the curveballs that had been thrown Kurt's way the past few days, seeing the looks on the high school girls' faces as they walked and stood happily and confidently on the runway made all the bad stuff wash away, if only for that blissful moment. Kurt even teared up when the girl in the winning look began to cry because she was so overwhelmed and happy, saying how blessed she felt and how thankful she was for what they had done for her and the other girls.

Ruby and Marco were in the top three with their designs, and Viola, who had a bit of a miscommunication with her young model-client, was still safe, but barely so. Kurt thought these girls looked elegant enough to walk a red carpet and receive all compliments from the critics. In the end, he was very proud of his team, and he would surely let them know.

Following the judging and elimination, during which Isaac lost a mentee and Kurt cheered internally, there were now nine designers left, and Kurt was still going strong with his three, and, having all lost one designer, Isaac and Amanda each had three as well. There was still a while to go in the competition, and Kurt knew that anything could happen, but he did his best to remain optimistic, because any other attitude would do him no good at all.


	8. Chapter Eight: Identity

**A/N:** I'm very sorry about the wait for this particular update, and I hope that chapters from now on will be back on a pretty regular posting schedule. The next two chapters are practically complete, so they might even be up by the upcoming weekend. This is a bit of an unusual chapter with a surprise at the end. I hope you enjoy it! ;)

* * *

Kurt stared into the bathroom mirror of his hotel room, squinting, his eyes focusing on the myriad of small, tan spots that dotted his skin like a sandstorm frozen in time. He ran his fingertips under his eyes and across his cheeks, stretching his skin and examining the after effects of the California sun. Usually a little bit of Color Correcting cream and sometimes a bit of cosmetic powder was enough to keep the blemishes at bay and maintain his porcelain façade. But underneath it all, it was undeniable that Kurt Hummel had inherited his mother's freckles. And, while he often felt like they made him look like a child and did what he could to conceal them, Kurt secretly loved that he had this piece of his mother as part of himself, and perhaps hiding them was a way of keeping them just for himself.

Then he shrugged, smiled, fixed his hair, and went off to filming, his skin as natural as the day he was born. When he arrived on set, crew members were outside setting up an array of flags from countries all over the world, and he watched with interest as he sipped his morning coffee and was fixed with a body mic. Although he had never been to Epcot, he imagined this was what it looked like.

The other mentors soon arrived, and Tim Gunn greeted them as a group. By this point, they all knew the drill, so Kurt, Amanda, and Isaac were led to the front lawn for the announcement of the day's challenge.

"Good morning, designers, mentors," Tim Gunn said. "As you can see, we have a collection of flags of nations all over the world. These flags represent the diversity of our designers and part of something that innately makes up who you all are as individuals. For this challenge, you will draw inspiration from not only the flag but also the unique culture of your country."

As explained, each designer was assigned a country that was part of his or her heritage. Kurt's team had Italy, Russia, and England, and he was fascinated to find out more about parts of their identities that lay below the surface and may not be so easily known.

The flags assigned to the others included Ireland, Sweden, Haiti, Mexico, Lebanon, and Cuba. Kurt knew, had he been in their place, that they would have assigned him Ireland. If the Emerald Isle was Hogwarts, he would be as pureblood and magical as they come, and he was very proud of that aspect of himself.

Having lived in the Midwest United States during his most formidable years, his ancestry never really played an integral part in his upbringing, at least, in no notable way that he could think of. Being American was the only thing that he could really identify with. The memories of his father playing Mellencamp and Springsteen, going to parades and fireworks displays to celebrate Independence Day, and watching football or baseball curled up in his father's lap or on the couch beside him - if only to be in his company - were among some of his fondest memories.

Suddenly Kurt had the urge to plan a tour of Europe in order to explore his roots. If things continued as they had been lately, soon, he and Blaine would be comfortable enough to begin traveling, and they were about due for a visit to the fashion capitals of the world. But all of his musings about travel only made Kurt feel lonely all over again, wishing he was home with Blaine or that Blaine was here with him.

The competition. He was here for the competition, Kurt reminded himself, and it was an important stepping stone on his way back to Blaine and toward a better future. He hadn't yet thought about what would happen if and when he won, but, for now, he knew he had to focus, put one foot in front of the other, and follow the others out of the building because they were headed to Mood.

-s-

"Hey, little guy." Kurt kneeled down by the white and tan chihuahua that was curled up on a pillow by the register and reached out hesitantly. Oscar lifted his short little snout to sniff at Kurt's hand, and then his little pink tongue darted out and licked his fingers. Kurt giggled at the sensation and then pet him atop his head before scratching behind his ears.

So Blaine had gotten them their own little guy just like the one in front of him. Well, not exactly like him, but, as Kurt stared into Oscar's large, dark, round bugged-out eyes, he found himself unable to suppress a smile.

He stood up again, pulled his phone out, and opened the picture of Barkley - a shortened version of the name Blaine had given him - and looked at the little creature's soulful eyes. Kurt began to imagine how life would be with the little dog...perhaps he would lay curled up by their feet as they watched television at night cuddled up next to each other, or maybe Kurt would even allow Barkley on the couch to nestle between them or in one of their laps as they all dozed off, comfortable and content and together.

And he couldn't be angry at all at a face like that, just like he could never stay angry at Blaine, even if he did do some utterly ridiculous things sometimes. With the addition to their family, things were going to be different. Now Kurt couldn't wait to get home to both his babies.

When Kurt stepped away to find his mentees, Oscar let out a soft whine and then began to follow Kurt to the end of an aisle of fabric, prancing on his twiggy, little paws and legs. Then he paused and tilted his head to the side, watching Kurt, one ear standing straight up while the other drooped.

Viola was standing a short distance away down the aisle, pulling out bolts of various fabrics in shades of white, blue, and red. After talking to all of his mentees and going over preliminary sketches, they had agreed as a group that they would all follow the color schemes of their flags so that the focus could be on structure and the design itself. As luck would have it, both Viola's and Ruby's were red, white, and blue, but Viola was searching for prints which alarmed Kurt a bit.

Kurt began to approach her but decided that it might be best to give all of them some space for this one. It was, after all, a very personal challenge, and his interference could throw off their creative processes. Instead, he waited by the door until time was called to check out and head back to FIDM.

As soon as he was allowed in the work room though, Kurt took full advantage of his limited time with his team, beginning with Viola who already seemed busy at work on her look.

"When I think about Russian fashion, I think of Slava Zaitsev," Viola explained to a curious Kurt. "His work is very traditional with a lot of prints and natural shapes, layers and bright colors. While there's a certain elegant chicness to his aesthetic, there's plenty of dramatic flair. I want to encapsulate that same drama in my look."

"If you don't mind me asking, do you have close ties to Russia?" Kurt asked.

"Not as much as I'd like, actually. I've only ever been there once, when I was younger. My mother was born in Russia, but I was born in America. My name doesn't even sound Russian because my mother was a musician and she named me after the instrument. The funny thing is that she's a pianist. Maybe she was hoping I'd grow up to fill that role, to be like her, but maybe a complement to her talents. I was hopeless at music though when she put me in lessons as a child, my mind was always elsewhere. Then I somehow fell into fashion. It's definitely a field that accepts and embraces my more unconventional ideas and methods. She wanted me to be classical, but I ended up being jazz."

"I'll admit, I'm not familiar with Zaitsev's work, but I do know quite a bit about music," Kurt said. "When I really think about it, I think Viola is very fitting for you." Kurt looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "You really seem to know who you are, and I'm really excited to see what you create. I'll leave you be to work now."

He stepped away and moved across the room to where Ruby was working, the Union Jack hung up on the wall by her workspace.

"So, you have England," Kurt said.

"Yeah, but I'm focusing more on my more recent heritage," she told him.

"Oh okay. I'd love to hear about your ideas," Kurt said.

"My first name, Ruby, is a family name," she began to explain. "I believe it was my great grandmother's, and I was the lucky one of three sister's to inherit it. I don't really have any ties to England. I've never been there, and my family hasn't lived there for generations as far as I know. But since this challenge is supposed to be about who we are as individuals, why not make it more personal? I think I'm going to opt for more reds with some blue in my design, jewel-tones, of course." She held up her fabric swatches and pinned them to the dress form.

"I like your choices. That color combination really works well," Kurt said. "Alright, get to work," he added with a warm smile and then continued on to his final mentee, Marco.

"Hey, Marco," Kurt greeted. "How are you feeling about this challenge?"

"Really great, actually," he said. "I feel good."

"I spoke with the other two, and they had so many ideas, things that I didn't even think about, ranging from iconic designers of the same heritage to interpretations of their names. It makes me really curious to know what you've been planning," Kurt said. "I mean, Italy. So much comes to mind when I think of Italy - so many great Italian designers - some of my favorites, actually. You've got Rome and Milan as fashion capitals as well."

"Ah, well, I think I'll surprise everyone then. I grew up in Philly, and I'd much rather bring in elements of the City of Brotherly Love, where my true roots are, than try to imitate some other designer or make an attempt at traditional dress. South Philly is like 'Little Italy,' and I feel that it's a pretty close representation of what living in Italy might actually be like. There's a great sense of community among neighbors, and the Italian marketplace is so authentic, it might as well have been plucked right out of Europe. Not to mention you have to be home for dinner with the entire family on Sundays. So I just want to bring the two together, since that's basically what I am."

"I think that's very smart. It's more genuine that way," Kurt said. "I'm impressed by your resolve."

"I'm not trying to be a rebel or anything, I just feel I do my best work when I stick to what I know best."

"And I'm glad that you do," Kurt said. "I loved your sketch, by the way, and I can't wait to see it come to life."

"Thank you," Marco said. "I hope the judges feel the same way."

"They will," Kurt said, smiling. "I'm sure of it."

-s-

The runway show was truly a spectacle, and during the judging Kurt couldn't help but wonder: how can you judge when there's such a varied and rich display of culture represented through the lens of personal experience and design aesthetic? One thing was certain, and it was something that Kurt had always loved about the show: Project Runway was always a learning experience.

At the end of the day, he was glad his team was still intact after watching Amanda lose one of her designers. There were several interviews filmed that day that kept all of them rather late, so it was a huge relief to finally be back in the hotel room and able to settle in for the night.

Tablet in hand, Kurt climbed into bed with the intention of checking his email, but seconds after he opened his web browser, Skype popped up on his screen with an incoming call from Blaine which he answered without delay.

The call connected, and Blaine came into focus.

It took a moment for Kurt to respond to what he was seeing on his screen. He was speechless and didn't know whether to laugh or remain silent in amused curiosity.

"Howdy," Blaine said, tipping the cowboy hat on his head and leaning back in the bed.

"Oh dear lord." Kurt closed his eyes tight and chuckled almost silently, feeling his body shake. "You even found a red paisley bow tie, bless your soul," he said after daring another look at the screen.

"What can I say? I have skills," Blaine said, still putting on a persona to match his costume.

"And I'm convinced you can smell them from a mile away," Kurt said, but he was distracted by Blaine's bare, muscled chest and arms to really care too much about what he _was_ wearing.

"You could call me a fashion wrangler, specializing in men's neckwear." Blaine winked and tugged on the sides of the bowtie. Then he reached for something by his side and held it up in front of the screen. "So you wanna -" He pulled the trigger on a toy gun, and a bright flag displaying a single word popped out. "- bang?"

Kurt swallowed and choked on his laughter. "You are absolutely ridiculous, but I must admit I am a little turned on right now." He ran his hand over his gradually growing bulge through the fabric of his pajama pants as he watched Blaine begin to do the same.

"You know what they say, save a horse, ride a cowboy," Blaine said.

"Did you seriously just -?"

"Yes I did, partner," Blaine said.

"Well, I can forgive you for that, and I'd still ride you," Kurt said.

"It wouldn't be difficult," Blaine said, and then he shifted on the bed. "Assless chaps, see?" Blaine turned over, baring his ass for Kurt, who stared lasciviously at the screen, wishing he could reach through it.

"Leather. Hot." And hot was exactly how Kurt felt as the blood flow to his face and lower regions increased, his cock beginning to throb.

"Must be your first time to the rodeo."

As silly as the whole thing was, Kurt found himself getting into it surprisingly easily. He watched as Blaine poured some lube onto his fingers, slicking them up, and ran his fingertip over his hole. Then, with a soft, sharp intake of breath, Blaine pushed one digit through his tight ring of muscle, and Kurt felt his cock pulsing and twitching at the sight. He was mesmerized as Blaine began to work himself open.

"Yeah, it is my first time. I've never ridden a bull before. I'm gonna need to hang on real _tight_, let you guide me," Kurt said, playing along, his hand traveling down under his waistband to grab his achingly hard, swollen cock. He hissed at the contact, pumping his fist once and reveling in the friction that he finally allowed himself.

"That can be a-ranged," Blaine said gruffly, now grasping his own cock. He continued to thrust his finger inside himself, soon adding another to feel more full.

"Mm," Kurt hummed. "Wordplay foreplay. I'd mount that, bareback mountain style," Kurt moaned, his hand sliding up and then down his cock again, falling into the same rhythm as Blaine.

"You can come in my tent," Blaine said.

"Such _tight_ quarters," Kurt said. It was sinful the way Blaine's fingers disappeared inside of him, and Kurt could almost feel the tight heat of Blaine around his cock, adjusting his grip just so.

"Yeah," Blaine breathed, his strokes speeding up, bringing himself closer to climax.

"Oh god, yes," Kurt gasped.

Blaine's hand flew up and down his slick cock, a soft moan accompanying every graze of the head, and Kurt pumped his own cock faster, drawing ever closer, thrusting into his fist, heat coiling in his stomach, the muscles tightening, until he had to bite back a moan as he came over his fingers and onto his belly. Kurt closed his eyes, focusing only on the pleasure of his orgasm.

"Fuck, babe, that is so hot," Blaine groaned as he came undone himself.

Kurt slowly opened his eyes and watched as Blaine cleaned himself off, reaching over for tissues to do the same. He rolled over onto his side and brought the tablet up by his pillows, sighing before he spoke again.

"You realize I haven't jerked off since I arrived in California, right?" Kurt said.

"What? Why not?"

"Just hadn't felt the urge, but I didn't realize how much I needed that. You're seriously amazing," Kurt said. "I can't believe you managed to turn a silly Halloween costume into something so hot."

"I'm not sure how I even got the idea, but I saw it in the closet and thought you might like it," Blaine said.

"Oh, I _really_ liked it. That's the kind of surprise that you should stick to, Blaine," Kurt said.

"Yeah..." Blaine grew quiet for a moment. "How has the competition been going? We don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to," he added quickly.

"Nah, it's fine. It's going a lot better than initially. Except for -" Kurt thought about all the Isaac drama but then shook his head, deciding that he didn't want to broach the subject at a time like this.

"Except for what?" Blaine asked.

"Nothing. I was just thinking about - I just wish I could get my hands dirty, ya know?" he lied quickly to deter Blaine's curiosity and any further prodding.

Blaine just grinned and fixed Kurt with a suggestive look.

"Oh my god. You know what I meant." Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed which was answered by a laugh on Blaine's end. "This whole mentor thing is great, and it's making me realize things about myself and others that I hadn't before - giving me new perspective and all - but I just want to be able to sit down at my own sewing machine in my own boutique and just create something."

"Why don't you then?"

"Why don't I what?"

"Make something. I don't mean you should sit down and create an entire garment - or that you can magically teleport home - but why don't you buy a few things on one of your days off and make something small - like an accessory or something? It'll at least keep you occupied and help you release some of that pent-up creative energy."

"Oh, Blaine. You make it sound so simple, like the answers to all my frustrations were in right in front of me all along," Kurt said.

"Just doing what I can, little darlin'," Blaine said, tipping his hat again.

Kurt laughed, shaking his head. "Okay, cowboy, I think it's time for you hang up your saddle and hit the hay."

After they exchanged 'good nights', Kurt set his tablet aside with a yawn, and burrowed himself into the bed. Pulling the big, fluffy comforter up around his shoulders, he slipped into a state of blissful slumber, the best night's sleep he had gotten since arriving on the West Coast.


	9. Chapter Nine: Twenty-One

The rattling hum of New York City traffic brought Blaine back from a daydream as he walked along the avenue on his way to the boutique with Barkley trotting along beside him on his leash.

Getting used to Barkley in the apartment was easy, but Blaine was super conscious about how things would be when Kurt returned, so he was training the dog to stay off the furniture, out of the bedroom, and had invested in an abundance of sticky rollers to fight the onslaught of dog hair that would surely take over their apartment if he didn't take preemptive measures. It hadn't occurred to him if perhaps there is a breed that doesn't shed, besides one of those hairless things. Kurt probably would appreciate that more, but Blaine was doing the best he could in their current situation.

He apologized after bumping into a young girl in the crosswalk, who was too taken with the dog now in his arms to be the slightest bit upset, and then quickened his pace as he approached the building. If nothing else, the cute little beast was something of a good luck charm and was quite useful for placating usually grumpy New Yorkers.

Saturdays were hit or miss with business, but today it seemed like they might be bringing in a little bit of money. There were a lot of tourists in and out of the shop, and it seemed like Tyler was answering the phone every five minutes. After running around, trying to keep things in order and customers happy, Blaine finally got a moment to breathe.

Blaine hadn't forgotten what day it was, and he had made a point to wish Tyler a happy birthday. But the real surprise was waiting in the break room, and now that the crowd of customers had died down, Blaine gathered everyone up to come inside.

"In case you guys didn't know, Tyler is twenty-one today!" Blaine announced. "And for the occasion, I brought in cookies for everyone. I wish I could say I baked them myself, but I did get them from Kurt's and my favorite bakery in Brooklyn."

"Thanks, Blaine," Tyler said, looking slightly abashed.

After a few of the others grabbed some sweets and cleared out to get back to work, Blaine pulled Tyler aside. "Listen, I know you're not a kid and all, so I didn't mean to make you feel that way with the cookies. I'd actually like to take you out for a drink tonight, if you don't already have plans. Twenty-one is kinda a big deal."

"No, it's okay, they're delicious, but...drinks with the boss? Sounds tempting and somewhat - risky?" Tyler said.

"I understand if you don't -"

"Uh, it's a yes! Duh," Tyler said with a giggle.

"Oh." A smile spread across Blaine's face. "Well, I can't wait then. We can head out straight from here after work, if you want."

"Alright. But can I run home real quick to change?" Tyler asked. "I'm going to want to wear something special for the occasion."

"Of course," Blaine answered.

-s-

Blaine took a sip of his third beer before setting the glass back down on the table. He looked out across the bar, scanning the crowd until he spotted Tyler again who was chatting it up with a tall, burly athletic-looking brunet. Blaine imagined the guy could easily lift Tyler in the air and throw him like a rag doll, he was that big.

After a dance, Tyler parted ways with the man and rejoined Blaine at the table.

"Ooh, he was gorgeous," Tyler said as he plopped down into the booth. "He plays football for Columbia -"

Blaine tried to stifle a laugh by quickly drinking more, but ended up blowing bubbles in his beer.

"What's so funny?" Tyler asked, noticing the grin on Blaine's face.

"Nothing," Blaine said. It was a lie - Blaine didn't have the heart to tell Tyler about his love of college football, and Columbia, well, they weren't exactly known for football. "I'm glad you're having a good time. Go on."

"I'm only a little tipsy...tipsy Tyler." He broke out into a fit of giggles at his drunken alliteration. "Anywho, his name is...it's - shit, I can't even remember." And they both laughed at the situation.

"You, my friend, are flagged," Blaine said, still laughing.

"Alright, fine. No more drinks for me, but he - um - apparently there is karaoke upstairs," Tyler said.

That piqued Blaine's interest. "Really?" Blaine said. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

-s-

There was a knock at the door, and Blaine set his laptop aside and rose from the couch. Who could possibly be at his door on a Sunday afternoon? It was his day off, and he had been taking advantage of the fact that he could lounge around in his pajamas. And, as much as he missed Kurt, it was also a bit less important for him to make himself presentable in his absence, so he had skipped his morning shave. Needless to say, he wasn't prepared for company and was reluctant to answer the door.

When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was a large bouquet of flowers, white lilies to be exact. Then the flowers moved out of the way to reveal a familiar young face.

"Special delivery!" Tyler handed him the card first.

"Hey, Tyler, um -" Blaine began nervously. Had he misinterpreted the gesture? "Come inside," Blaine invited him in, because it was the polite thing to do, and then closed the door.

He swallowed hard as he turned the small envelope over in his hands before slipping a finger under the flap to open it. But when he saw the front of the card, a wave of relief washed over him, and a smile spread across his face.

Tyler set the bouquet down on the table and began to strip away the wrapping on it to reveal the vase.

"He sent me an email with all the order details and when to deliver them," Tyler explained.

"I should have known," Blaine said almost to himself. "Kurt was always the romantic out of the two of us. I can't believe he did this."

"He really loves you," Tyler said.

"Yeah." Blaine flipped open the card, and his brow furrowed. "Hold on one sec -"

"What is it?" Tyler asked.

Blaine began to read aloud:

_**I hope your head is fine. That was quite a performance, ex Warbler. You've got the "moves" alright. You're wondering how I know about your little karaoke adventure. No, it wasn't Tyler. You might want to check YouTube...you were quite the hit - or should I say 5,118 hits last time I checked. So, these flowers are to celebrate you. Sorry I couldn't be there, but know that I would always bring you flowers after a show. ;)**_

"Scandalous," Tyler said.

"But I didn't even see anyone with a camera out," Blaine said, covering his face with his hand and then raking his fingers through his hair.

"Are you kidding? Everyone has a camera on their phone, Blaine," Tyler said, crossing his arms.

Blaine groaned. "Let's see the damage."

"You were great up there. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about," Tyler said as Blaine retrieved his laptop from the couch and walked it over to set it on the counter. He pulled up YouTube and typed his name into the search bar, and, lo and behold, there was Blaine on that little stage at the bar, one beer too many, moving his hips, twirling, and shaking his ass to Moves Like Jagger.

"Holy -" Blaine said. "I really hope Cooper doesn't find this. He will never let me live it down."

"Who's Cooper?" Tyler asked.

"My brother."

"You have a brother?" Tyler was grinning in a way that caused Blaine to roll his eyes and laugh.

"A very straight, very much older than me brother," he stressed.

"Oh, darn," Tyler said.

Then his phone went off, and Blaine's attention was diverted. The great influx of business the previous day had caused Blaine to miss Kurt's call when he had been on one of his brief breaks, so he had been keeping the phone close, hoping to not miss another. He practically dashed back to where he had been situated before Tyler's arrival to grab it off the coffee table.

"Oh! It's like he heard me talking about him! That's actually my brother calling, so I have to take this call...sorry, Ty, but thank you so much for delivering the flowers. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. It's no problem at all. See you tomorrow, Blaine." And he let himself out as Blaine answered the phone.

"Cooper," Blaine said. "Hey."

"Hey, baby brother. How have you been?"

"Are you ever going to stop calling me your baby brother? I'm almost thirty years old."

"Probably not. You'll always be younger and so much - shorter."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. But I didn't call to tease you. I wanted to tell you that I'm in town," Cooper said.

"And what brings you to my neck of the woods this fine day?"

"Work. An audition for some commercial," Cooper said.

"I'm guessing you're planning to stay over here?"

"Of course. I am welcome, right?"

"Always, you know that."

"So, I guess I'll see you soon then?"

"Yeah. See you, Coop."

When they disconnected the call, Blaine glanced around the apartment, and it hit him just how much of a bum he had been since Kurt left. His shoes were scattered haphazardly near the door, there were dishes left in the sink, the floor was littered with Barkley's toys, and he hadn't even bothered to put his clothes away after his visits to the laundry room and dry cleaners.

He immediately went to work straightening up and preparing the apartment for a visitor because he wasn't even sure when to expect Cooper. He could drop in any minute. As soon as the apartment looked somewhat presentable, the shower was his next destination.

While Blaine had been cleaning up the place, Barkley was napping in his bed by the sofa, but once Blaine was out of the shower and pulling on a fresh outfit, the dog was whimpering and spinning in circles by the door, alerting Blaine that he desperately needed to relieve himself, and Blaine quickly heeded the call.

Barkley took his time sniffing around outside at every little thing before finally doing what he was brought out there to do, and Blaine absentmindedly cleaned up the best he could before heading back around the block toward home. But a few feet from the apartment, the dog began to growl and bark wildly at someone, and Blaine looked up, coming face to face with his neighbor, Daniel.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry," Blaine apologized, bending down to try to calm and quiet the rowdy pooch. "He's not usually like this. I promise he's harmless."

"It's alright," Daniel assured him. "He's so cute. Is he a new addition? I haven't seen much of you lately. How have you guys been, you and Kurt?"

"Kurt's actually - oh, I keep forgetting that there are people who don't know," Blaine said, laughing to himself and a little at himself. "He's in California right now, filming a season of Project Runway."

"Oh, that's neat. I've never watched the show," Daniel admitted, looking a little sheepish.

"It's a new series, sorta like a spin-off, called Under the Gunn. Kurt's been chosen to mentor a team of new designers trying to get their feet wet while they compete against two other teams."

"Do you get exclusive spoilers from your man?"

"Well, a few, but nothing too juicy," Blaine said. Barkley tugged on the leash, and Blaine looked down to see him now sniffing politely at Daniel's shoes, a welcome change from his previous behavior. "After a long day, I think the competition is the last thing he wants to talk about."

"That's really exciting, though. I'm really happy for you both," he said. "Maybe I'll tune in so I can tell everyone, 'hey, that's my neighbor! I know that guy'," he added, playfully patting Blaine on the arm.

"Trust me, I know that feeling. I still do that," Blaine said, his chest puffing up a bit with pride.

Daniel grinned genially. "You obviously snagged a great guy."

The dog let out brief, soft howl, and Blaine pulled his phone out, suddenly aware of the length of their walk that was only supposed to take a few minutes. When he saw the time, he apologized to Daniel again and headed back up to his apartment. While Daniel was his neighbor and they had engaged in small talk on occasion, they weren't much more than acquaintances, and Blaine decided that it felt really good to get a moment to brag to a virtual stranger about his husband, about how successful and talented Kurt is. Because if there was anyone in the world who could claim the title of Kurt Hummel's biggest fan, it was Blaine Anderson, and oh so proudly and willingly so.


	10. Chapter Ten: Brothers

Blaine was sitting at his desk sketching a few new design ideas when a slip of paper, a page that had been torn out, fell out of his sketchbook and fluttered to the floor. He bent over and lifted it up from where it had landed. Upon closer examination, he saw that written upon the paper were lyrics that he had scribbled down, but he couldn't remember when he had.

He knitted his brows as he read over them a few times, and then it hit him.

"Oh," Blaine said to himself. _Oh_, he thought, as the memory blasted him like a rush of cold air to the face. God, the paper was even faded, and he was surprised that he still had it and hadn't thrown it away during one of his spring cleaning sessions.

Three years ago, when he had sat in his chilly Chicago apartment designing his final collection for All Stars and missing Kurt, Blaine scribbled down these words in his sketchbook. But he had long forgotten about them, had never bothered to add music. But looking back over them now, he was actually impressed with the lyrics. They felt relevant right now as he sat alone in his slightly less chilly apartment in New York.

He had a little keyboard that he liked to mess around with every once in a while, but never for anything serious. Mostly, it sat under the bed collecting dust. Also, stowed away in the back of the closet was his guitar, shut up in its case, barely ever allowed to see daylight. More than a few times, Kurt had begged him to take it out and tune it in hopes he would play something, but Blaine never really felt like playing, and when he did give in, he usually never made it past the tuning.

Today was different. In the past, he had always made a point to finish what he'd started. Today he was going to sit down, tune the guitar, and finish the song.

It was like catching up with an old friend, one he knew so well, as he sat down on the couch with the guitar and ran his fingers across the strings. He positioned his fingers on the frets and applied pressure. The familiar rich mahogany and maple wood smell of his Gibson acoustic with a hint of metallic incense caused him to close his eyes and bow his head before lightly strumming. The chord rang out into the quiet apartment, and he proceeded to play a few more, easing into a basic rhythm.

Blaine looked over the page of lyrics on the coffee table in front of him and began to play around, matching the words to tones, penciling it all in, until he had something that resembled a song. No, it was a song. He had written a song again, and his hands began to tremble in his excitement when he realized what he had accomplished.

Blaine played all the way through the song a few times before grabbing his phone and checking the time. It was getting late, but he figured Kurt would still be filming. He called Kurt's phone and prayed for it to go to voicemail. When it did, he quickly positioned his fingers on the neck and began to play. He hoped it would record it all as he strummed and sang into the phone. When his song was over, he reached down and hit end call on the screen.

About a minute later, his phone buzzed with a text. That was quick, he thought, but then saw that the sender was Cooper and not Kurt:

_stop making all that racket_

Blaine rolled his eyes and set his phone back down. "Are you shitting me?" Blaine called out across the apartment, his voice carrying into the bedroom.

"I'm trying to sleep, and you've been playing that thing for hours now," Cooper called back.

Cooper slowly made his way into the main room, rubbing his eyes and scratching his stomach. He walked over to the fridge to pour himself a glass of water, and Blaine just glared at him.

"You've been sleeping all day," Blaine said.

"Hey, I had a long flight -"

"An hour and a half flight. Man, you must be exhausted," Blaine jested.

"I need my beauty sleep."

Blaine laughed. "I thought you came here to spend some time together, but I'm pretty sure my pillow has seen your face longer than I have."

"I'm awake now, aren't I? Let's go out somewhere," Cooper said. "What were you playing anyway?"

"It was nothing, just something stupid I wrote," Blaine half-mumbled.

"I haven't heard you play that thing since high school...why now?" Cooper took a seat on the couch next to Blaine.

"I don't know. I just felt like it. I found some lyrics I had written and figured I might as well do something with them," Blaine explained.

"It was for Kurt, wasn't it?" Cooper asked.

"Yeah." He shifted in his seat, pulling the guitar strap from around his shoulder, and set the instrument in its velvet-lined hard leather casing. "He's so excited to be there in LA, and he's been doing so well. I'm happy for him - but I miss him," Blaine said, lowering the lid and snapping the metal latches on the case closed.

"Of course you do. That's why I'm here to distract you," Cooper said.

"Coop," Blaine said. "I thought you were here for an audition?"

"I am, but I'm also here because I feel awful that I wasn't there for you the last time Kurt was gone." Cooper looked down at his hands on his knees for a moment. "And I feel like I never - maybe I didn't deserve being called your best man."

"Oh, god, don't, seriously," Blaine said. "It's not your responsibility to come running to my rescue whenever something goes wrong. We made mistakes, and we got through it. You have your own life, and you shouldn't feel guilty about that."

"I know, man, but -"

"But nothing, Coop," Blaine cut him off. "You've always been there for me, and you were at the wedding - the _best_ best man - and that's all I could ask for. Now, get your ass off my couch and come out with me. Let's move this pity party out of the apartment and actually have some fun." Blaine rose off the couch, went to gather his jacket and scarf, and then slipped his shoes on.

"Alright, Blaine, I'm coming. Give me a few minutes to change," Cooper said, making his way back toward the bedroom.

"Hurry up," Blaine called out. "Or I'm dragging you to a gay club, and I won't be liable for all the admirers you're sure to attract."

"You think that scares me? Bring it on," Cooper shouted. "We might both be Andersons, but, admit it. You've got nothing on me."

"Is that a challenge?" Blaine said, quirking an eyebrow.

Cooper returned, fresh outfit and hair combed. "You bet it is."

-s-

"Kurt, _Kurt_, _Kurrr_-t," Blaine whined into the phone, his 'r's slurring and voice thick. "I'm so glad you called, because you see, you see - I've been thinking about you. I've been thinking about your face and your ass," Blaine giggled. "But not like an assface, because that would just be weird," he added after a pause, as if he'd taken a moment to consider it.

"You've been drinking," Kurt said. There was no question.

"It's okay, though, Cooper's here with me to make sure I don't get too sloppy. He says he's _'babysitting'_ like old times."

Kurt sighed heavily. "He's terrible at it. I'm pretty sure you're already far beyond sloppy."

"To infinity and beyond!" Blaine said, raising his free arm up on his end, not that Kurt could see it.

"Oh boy," Kurt responded.

"_Kurrt_," Blaine rambled drunkenly on again. "I really like saying your name. Kurt. _Kurt_. It's like music. You make me think of music. I wrote a song for you! I love you, Kurt. I love you so so much. I love _you_. When are you coming home to me so I can _rrravish_ you in our bed? Ooh - I'll take you on the table or on the floor - against the _wall_ - or the front door," Blaine whispered, giggling through it like a child saying a swear word. "...I can't wait long enough to make it to a bed."

-s-

"Oh god," Blaine grumbled to himself as he struggled to open his eyes to the harsh sunlight cutting in through the window. Couldn't it have waited just a few more hours to rise?

"You're awake." Cooper walked into the room, a glass of water and two Aspirin in hand.

"Why are you talking so loudly?" Blaine groaned. He sat up and cradled his pounding head in his hands.

Cooper simply laughed at him. "Take those, drink that, and then come out to the living room, because I have something you might want to see."

Fear spiked inside of Blaine. He desperately tried to recall everything he had done and said the previous night - he knew he had been careless and had overdone it just a little - but much of it was fuzzy and fragmented in his head. He hoped to god that he hadn't made a repeat of the last time he went out, especially since he hadn't been nearly as coordinated or aware this time. But he was fairly certain that he was safe because the place they had been never had karaoke or anything like that. Still, he couldn't imagine what was waiting for him.

Once he was up, he half-stumbled his way into the other room where Cooper was seated with Blaine's laptop open on the counter while he beat some eggs in a bowl for breakfast. Blaine slumped down into a chair at the table and waited for Cooper. Blaine preferred to remain in blissful ignorance for as long as he could, so it wasn't until his brother set the computer in front of him that he finally looked up, focusing in on the screen.

"Twitter," Blaine said.

"Yes. Just have a look, scroll through for a bit. You'll see it." Cooper stepped away, a smug grin on his face.

"I'm not sure what it could even - oh." Blaine took a moment to read and process:

* * *

**Kurt Hummel** (a)emBarKurt

It seems like Woody got a little too Buzzed.

Good to know that NY is as exciting as ever ;)

#holdyourhorses #illbehomesoon

* * *

"You drunk dialed him?" Cooper asked, obviously amused.

"No, I don't think so. Wait. Kurt called me, but I can't remember much of what I said to him."

"He at least seems to be able to joke about it, so it must not have been that bad. But what's with the Toy Story pun, and why'd he call you 'Woody'? I feel like I missed something," Cooper said.

Blaine felt his face heat up, his mind flashing to an image of a very aroused Kurt on his computer screen. He swallowed thickly. "I - I have no idea, Coop. He must have just had Disney on his mind or something," he lied.

"Maybe he went to Disneyland in between filming?" Cooper said, shrugging.

"I don't know, but I'm done. I mean it. I can't keep going out drinking and embarrassing myself," Blaine said.

Cooper froze and turned toward Blaine. "What do you mean by that? Something like this happened before?"

Blaine swallowed. "It's best if I'm the one who tells you." He turned the laptop around and slid it in Cooper's direction across the table. "YouTube. Moves Like Jagger. My name. You're welcome."

He laid his head on the table and closed his eyes as the song that would forever haunt him began to flow through the laptop speakers, followed by muffled snickers.

"Pure gold," is all he heard after that. And then the sizzling of butter in the pan on the stove and the clinking of utensils as Cooper gave Blaine some much needed space and prepared what would be a much needed breakfast he hoped he'd be able to stomach.


End file.
